Blood of the Tiger: Storm Front
by Twilidramon
Summary: LionClan is recovering, but a sudden loss from within might just drive a wedge between those who want peace and those who want all-out war, with the Three in between struggling to find their place. Meanwhile in TigerClan a stranger in their midst opens doors into Starlingthorn's past, and the dangers that come with it... A storm will break, for better or worse. (T)
1. Allegiances

**Hey everyone, and welcome to the second installment of Blood of the Tiger - _Storm Front!_ I'm really happy to get this started, and I hope you'll enjoy it too.**

 **If you're just tuning in, I suggest you read the first Blood of the Tiger, _Starling._ But a brief rundown - Hawkfrost managed to kill Firestar with the fox trap, has kidnapped Squirrelflight, usurped ShadowClan and RiverClan, and has become Hawkstar, leader of TigerClan. LionClan has formed out of the remaining ThunderClan and WindClan, with an inexperienced Bramblestar and WindClan's leader, Onestar, at it's head.**

 **With the war raging, a loner named Starling is caught up in the fight, thrown into TigerClan. Her purpose - to destroy TigerClan from within... a task easier said than done. Meanwhile in LionClan the Three are growing and discovering their powers, all while dealing with the hidden unrest in LionClan.**

 **Here we go!**

* * *

 **ALLEGIANCES**

* * *

 **LIONCLAN (formerly ThunderClan and WindClan)**

Leaders:

Bramblestar – huge dark brown tabby tom, amber eyes

Onestar – light brown tabby tom, yellow eyes (Whitetail's mate)

Deputies:

Cloudtail – long-haired white tom with torn ears, blue eyes (Brightheart's mate) _(Cinderpaw)_

Ashfoot – pale gray she-cat, blue eyes (mother of Crowfeather)

Medicine Cat:

Leafpool – light brown tabby she-cat with white chest and paws (mother of Spottedpaw, Robinpaw, and Lionpaw) _(Robinpaw & Kestrelpaw)_

Warriors:

Sandstorm – pale ginger she-cat, green eyes (mother of Squirrelflight and Leafpool) _(Honeypaw)_

Graystripe – long-haired dark gray tom, amber eyes (Willowfoot's mate)

Tornear – tabby tom, yellow eyes _(Harepaw)_

Whitetail – small white she-cat, green eyes (mother of Heatherpaw, Harepaw, and Kestrelpaw) _(Breezepaw)_

Brightheart – white-and-ginger tortoiseshell, blue eyes (mother of Whitewing) _(Spottedpaw)_

Nightcloud – sleek black she-cat, yellow eyes (mother of Breezepaw)

Thornclaw – golden brown tabby tom, yellow eyes _(Poppypaw)_

Willowfoot – silver tabby she-cat, yellow eyes; former kittypet

Sorreltail – tortoiseshell she-cat, amber eyes (mother of Cinderpaw, Poppypaw, and Honeypaw) _(Lionpaw)_

Spiderleg – leggy black tom with a brown underbelly, amber eyes

Crowfeather – smoky black tom, blue eyes _(Heatherpaw)_

Stormfur – solid gray tom, amber eyes; formerly of RiverClan (Brook's mate)

Birchfall – light brown tabby tom, yellow eyes

Owlwhisker – light brown tabby tom, green eyes

Weaselfur – ginger tom with white paws, blue eyes (Whitewing's mate)

Berryfrost – cream-colored tom with a stumpy tail, yellow eyes

Hazeltail – small gray-and-white she-cat, yellow eyes

Apprentices:

Robinpaw – cream-colored tabby tom, pale blue eyes; medicine cat apprentice

Kestrelpaw – brown-and-gray flecked tom, yellow eyes; medicine cat apprentice

Honeypaw – golden brown tabby she-cat, blue eyes

Poppypaw – tortoiseshell she-cat, amber eyes

Harepaw – light brown tabby tom with white paws, yellow eyes

Heatherpaw – light brown tabby she-cat with white paws, blue eyes

Spottedpaw – pretty tortoiseshell, green eyes

Lionpaw – smoky golden brown tabby tom, amber eyes

Queens:

Ferncloud – pale gray she-cat, green eyes (mother of Dustpelt's kits – Foxkit and Icekit)

Whitewing – pretty white she-cat, green eyes (expecting)

Brook Where Small Fish Swim (Brook) – light brown tabby she-cat, yellow eyes; formerly of the Tribe of Rushing Water (expecting)

Daisy – cream-colored she-cat, yellow eyes; formerly a loner from the Horseplace (mother of Berryfrost and Hazeltail)

Elders:

Cinderpaw – mottled gray tabby she-cat, blue eyes; recovering from a leg injury

Dustpelt – dark tabby tom, amber eyes; retired due to spinal frailty (Ferncloud's mate)

Webfoot – dark gray tabby tom, blue eyes

Mousefur – dusky brown she-cat, amber eyes

Longtail – pale tabby tom, blind in both eyes

* * *

 **TIGERCLAN (formerly RiverClan and ShadowClan)**

Leader: Hawkstar – huge dark brown tabby tom with white chest and paws, ice-blue eyes (Starlingthorn's mate)

Deputies:

Rowanclaw – dark ginger tabby tom, green eyes (Tawnypelt's mate)

Russetfur – dark ginger she-cat, yellow eyes

Medicine Cats:

Mothwing – dappled golden tabby she-cat with long fur, amber eyes

Willowshine - dark gray tabby she-cat, green eyes

Warriors:

Oakfur – small brown tom, amber eyes

Mosspelt – tortoiseshell she-cat, blue eyes

Reedwhisker – sleek black tom, yellow eyes

Smokefoot – smoky black tom, blue eyes

Ashfur – pale gray flecked tabby tom, green eyes; formerly of ThunderClan

Voletooth – small brown tabby tom, green eyes

Beechfur – light brown tabby tom, yellow eyes

Rippletail – dark gray tabby tom, blue eyes

Icewing – white she-cat, blue eyes

Toadpelt – dark brown tom, green eyes

Applenose – mottled brown she-cat, green eyes

Dappleheart – mottled gray-tortoiseshell she-cat, yellow eyes

Ivydapple – black, white, and tortoiseshell she-cat, blue eyes

Starlingthorn – dark charcoal Bengal she-cat with white paws, yellow eyes; former loner

Owltail – light brown tabby tom, amber eyes

Minnowleap – dappled gray-and-white she-cat, green eyes

Pouncetail – ginger-and-white tabby tom, green eyes

Pebblefall – pale gray tom with a mottled pelt, green eyes

Apprentices:

N/A

Queens:

Tawnypelt – tortoiseshell she-cat (mother of Eaglekit, Redkit, and Dawnkit)

Snowbird – pure white she-cat, blue eyes (expecting)

Graymist – pale gray tabby she-cat, green eyes (expecting)

Dawnflower – pale gray she-cat, blue eyes

Elders:

Cedarheart – dark gray tabby tom, green eyes

Heavystep – big brown tabby tom, yellow eyes

Tallpoppy – long-legged light brown tabby she-cat, yellow eyes (mother of Toadpelt and Applenose)

Stonestream – gray tabby tom, green eyes

Swallowtail – dark tabby she-cat, yellow eyes

Hostage:

Squirrelflight – dark ginger she-cat with a bushy tail and one white paw, green eyes; formerly of ThunderClan

* * *

 **CATS (AND OTHER CREATURES) OUTSIDE THE CLANS**

Smoky – gray-and-white tom, yellow eyes; lives at the Horseplace

Floss – gray-and-white she-cat, blue eyes; lives at the Horseplace

Midnight – stargazing she-badger who lives by the sea

* * *

 **MAGPIE'S GROUP, AND CATS NEAR THEM**

Magpie – old grizzled black tom with patchy fur, green eyes (father of Fletch and Lark)

Fletch – very small light brown tabby tom, copper eyes

Lark – slim light brown tabby she-cat with distinctive markings, green eyes (Gull's mate)

Gull – gray-and-white she-cat with patchy fur, blue eyes

Falcon – young pale gray tabby tom with white patches, blue eyes

Jingo – dark brown tabby she-cat, amber eyes

Hussar – broad-shouldered gray tom, yellow eyes

Chirp – pale gray tabby tom, yellow eyes

Speckle – flecked brown she-cat, amber eyes

Fritz – black-and-white tom with a torn ear, green eyes

Jet – long-haired black tom, yellow eyes

Merry – ginger-and-white she-cat, blue eyes

Lopsy – chocolate point kittypet, she-cat, blue eyes

* * *

 **THE DARK FOREST:**

Leader: Tigerstar – big dark brown tabby tom with long, hooked claws, a scarred muzzle, and amber eyes (father of Hawkstar, Mothwing, Bramblestar, and Tawnypelt)

Warriors:

Silverhawk – white tom with silver tabby patches, blue eyes

Mapleshade – tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat with a fluffy white tail, yellow eyes

Brokenstar – dark brown tabby with long fur, a flat face, and a kinked tail, amber eyes

Clawface – sturdy brown tom with a scarred face, amber eyes

Darkstripe – very dark gray tabby tom with yellow eyes

Shredtail – shaggy dark brown tabby tom with a fur-stripped tail, green eyes

Sparrowfeather – mottled light brown tabby she-cat, green eyes

Thistleclaw – mottled gray-and-white tom, yellow eyes

Maggottail – white tom, yellow eyes


	2. Prologue

**And here is the prologue, which will answer a question you probably have after reading the Allegiances!**

* * *

 **Prologue**

" _Fallen tree!" called Spiderleg. The_ lanky tom was paused before the remains of the oak, which must have fallen sometime during the lashing storm the day before. Spiderleg was glad he hadn't been on patrol yesterday – it was bad enough the forest was so muggy and just _dripping_ now.

He looked back. His patrol was following, picking their way through the damp undergrowth. Some were limping – a grim reminder of the battle that had taken place three sunrises ago. LionClan had been woken from their sleep by an invading force of TigerClan warriors – LionClan would have been wiped out if it hadn't been for an apprentice running halfway across the territory to bring the moorland group to help.

 _That sort of thing would never have happened if Hawkstar hadn't taken over,_ Spiderleg recalled. He had become a warrior several moons before the Clans had been forced from four to two. The four Clans were always warring with one another even then, but with only two Clans fighting one another everything seemed more and more extreme.

"It's an easy jump," Spiderleg offered as his patrol caught up.

"For your long legs, maybe," scoffed Willowfoot. "The rest of us aren't so lucky!"

Spiderleg frowned at the former kittypet. He still didn't know how to take her presence here, and he wasn't sure Graystripe had been wise to bring his new kittypet mate into this war when she was hardly an apprentice herself.

The rest of the patrol chuckled with her, though. At least she seemed to be making friends amongst LionClan. Spiderleg stepped aside as his patrol began scrambling up and over the fallen tree. Willowfoot struggled a little, but was fine when all her paws hit the ground. Hazeltail was one of the smallest warriors, but she didn't let her size stop her from clambering up and over. Tornear went next, a former WindClan warrior with seasons of experience – and lastly came Tornear's apprentice Harepaw, whose body was laced with scratches from the battle.

Spiderleg cleared the oak and raised his tail, leading the patrol on towards the TigerClan border. Wind blasted at his short fur as the trees that had once clotted his vision began thinning out. Soon enough the long grasses of the moorland replaced the trees and the patrol was out in the open sky.

Behind him, Tornear gave a sigh. "I'll never get tired of this place," he muttered to himself.

 _You can have your open moors,_ Spiderleg thought. He padded along nervously. _Personally I hate not having trees over my head._ At least it wasn't as wet in the moors, if one knew where the peat was.

Spiderleg led the patrol along the lakeshore. A slight breeze fanned the lake, sloshing little waves against the pebbly ground. Spiderleg kept his patrol out of the pebbles and onto drier land, not wanting to have to fish out any of his Clanmates from the lake.

"I hope Onestar and Bramblestar pick a new moorland group soon," commented Hazeltail. "Patrolling our whole border again is wearing on all of us."

Spiderleg nodded in agreement. Willowfoot chimed, "I'm sure they will – the battle's taken a lot out of all of us."

"We'll just have to endure," Spiderleg finished. He glanced at Harepaw, the youngest of them but one of the eldest apprentices. He'd just passed his fighting assessment and was cleared to go on patrols along the TigerClan border – Spiderleg hoped the tired-looking tom wouldn't have to test his skills anytime soon.

As the patrol dragged on, Spiderleg found himself missing the days when a walk down the old borders took until sunhigh – maybe. Now sunhigh was passing over their heads and the patrol wasn't even a quarter of the way along the moors.

 _WindClan had so much territory,_ Spiderleg reflected, glancing out at the wide open spaces. _But so little prey to make up for it. At least now they're broadening their palates._ When WindClan lived alone on the moors rabbits had been their primary diet, even with a thin strip of splotchy woods on one side. The tough, gamey meat of the rabbit seemed to reflect in every WindClan warrior – but now they were all a little more filled-out.

 _It's almost as if we've always belonged to one Clan._ Spiderleg wasn't sure what to think about that thought. The Clans had always prided themselves on what had made them different – but now that warring with TigerClan was their top priority it seemed like the lines were blurring more and more each day. Hunting techniques were merging, fighting moves were being swapped over fresh-kill… It was all so bizarre.

The sun was beginning its decline into darkness when the patrol reached the TigerClan border. They still had plenty of newleaf-greenleaf daylight, but the air was cooling down and Spiderleg detected another storm on the breeze. The group stopped for a quick meal – Tornear had Harepaw show how well he could catch a rabbit – before moving on.

Spiderleg raised his tail for quiet as they began walking along the border. TigerClan scent was here, but stale – Tornear was explaining that TigerClan warriors must have congregated here just before the battle, or it might have been a meeting place for injured cats.

"But I don't smell a marker," Harepaw pointed out. "Aren't there supposed to be markers?"

"The marshes beyond this border are neutral territory," Spiderleg explained. "Have been since the island was where we held Gatherings." When the war began LionClan and TigerClan had tried holding Gatherings – but the last had ended in a fight, which had ended the tradition. For now. _When the war's over there will be Gatherings again._

"What's stopping TigerClan from just marking the marshes as theirs?" Willowfoot wondered.

"Same thing that's stopping us, I guess," Hazeltail answered. "It's a lot of work patrolling our borders, even with two groups. None of us need the extra territory."

"Alright, alright; settle down," Spiderleg meowed, looking back at his patrol. "We need to keep quiet – you know how TigerClan likes spying."

"Don't forget we need to look out for Barkface too," Tornear offered. "He was supposed to meet us by a rock that marked those StarClan-forsaken tunnels."

Spiderleg nodded, feeling awkward about a reminder from an older warrior. He led the way, looking out for the distinctive stone just inside LionClan territory.

"I still can't believe those apprentices _knew_ about those tunnels," growled Hazeltail. "A lot of fighting could have been prevented!"

"Or started," Willowfoot pointed out. "TigerClan used them to attack us practically in our sleep! We could have done the same."

"We should have," grumbled Tornear.

"Enough," snapped Spiderleg. He turned to look at the she-cats. "Save the gossiping for the queens and get a move on!"

Spiderleg turned about and kept going. The rock wasn't far off – he could smell Barkface's scent faintly on the breeze, along with that storm. Spiderleg really wanted to get back to camp before it broke.

 _Those blasted tunnels,_ he thought. When TigerClan's scent was traced back to them, Heatherpaw and Lionpaw had come forward to say that they and Breezepaw had known about them for some time – and had been playing in them. The three were sentenced to elder's duties for a quarter-moon, and to help patrols seek out and close the tunnels up so no more attacks could take place.

 _Serves them right, keeping this sort of thing secret,_ Spiderleg thought. _They might have done well in the battle, but that doesn't exempt them from punishment. Things would be a lot different if they had spoken up earlier…_

"Here we are," Spiderleg announced.

The rock was a rather unassuming thing, surrounded by tufty bushes. It was barely the height of a cat, but it was smooth and it looked warm. Just beneath it, hidden from view only on the marshland side, was a hole that smelled faintly of TigerClan. It was concealed with long grass and muddy dirt.

"Where's Barkface?" Tornear wondered. "He said he'd meet us here."

"He must be around," Spiderleg offered. "Must have found some herb or something – medicine cat stuff, you know."

Tornear opened his jaws, tasting the air. "He was here," he reported. "But not for long."

"Go find him," Spiderleg said. "Take Hazletail – her nose is good. Willowfoot, Harepaw, and I will wait here."

Tornear nodded. With a flick of his tail, he and Hazeltail were trotting off deeper into the moorland. Spiderleg settled on his haunches – but he didn't have time to linger long. Tornear and Hazeltail had just reached a clump of heather when Hazeltail turned back and shouted, "Spiderleg! Everyone! Come here!"

Spiderleg's ears pricked, and he and the others trotted over to meet them. Spiderleg's nose twitched as he approached the heather bush – Barkface's scent was here, but there was another one, buried beneath the tang of herbs and heather.

Blood.

"Great StarClan," breathed Harepaw.

"No, oh no…" Willowfoot whimpered.

Tornear was holding open the heather bush, his face grim. Inside, nestled in the bush almost as if he were sleeping, his pelt smeared with blood and herb matter, was Barkface.

Hazeltail murmured, "He's dead."


	3. Chapter 1

**I will admit that I flubbed up a little in the allegiances (showing Dustpelt as an elder when he won't be for a few more chapters) but Blackclaw not being in the Dark Forest section is on purpose.**

 **Hawkstar sort of explained why he had two deputies in the last story – they were cats he trusted (or at least, ones Tigerstar trusted) to follow his orders. It's why he took Blackclaw's 'betrayal' so personally in the end. But it is a good question – why** _ **does**_ **Hawkstar have two deputies? Hm, I wonder if that'll be answered sometime…**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 _The smell of the camp_ flooded over Robinpaw as he dragged himself through the bramble tunnel on tired paws. He had to focus to make sure he didn't ram into Leafpool or Kestrelpaw – he could just barely make out the sound of their pawsteps and breathing over the hum of activity in the camp.

 _It's good to be back,_ Robinpaw thought. The journey to the Moonpool seemed to take twice as long this time – the first time without Barkface. Leafpool had been forbidden to speak with StarClan but Bramblestar and Onestar agreed that Kestrelpaw and Robinpaw were not to go on the trek alone. But without Barkface it felt like there was an empty space everywhere.

"Get rested, you two," Leafpool offered. She seemed just as tired as any of them, if not more so – because she couldn't speak to StarClan anymore like a traditional medicine cat, she had kept herself awake throughout the ceremony. It had been awkward, and Robinpaw was worried for his mother. "I'm going to check on those still recovering."

"I can help," Robinpaw offered. Most of the Clan had recovered, but there were still a few warriors sporting nasty, stubborn cuts and scrapes from the TigerClan attack a quarter-moon ago. Robinpaw had learned quickly just how differently every cat coped and healed.

Leafpool meowed, "Don't worry about it – you need your energy. But if you're so eager to help, you can sort the herb store when you wake up. We need to take stock."

Robinpaw nodded, too tired to complain about the boring task. At least, he had once found it boring – he now felt better sitting on his rump counting leaves than he did pressing them into his Clanmates' wounds, panic rising in his throat like a lump of tough fresh-kill.

"Get to your nests, now," Leafpool insisted. "I won't have tired apprentices."

"On it," Kestrelpaw sighed. Robinpaw heard his paws shuffling as he headed for the medicine cat's den. Robinpaw flicked his tail, knowing that his fellow apprentice had lost a lot of his spirit when Barkface was found dead. Barkface had been his mentor and as close as family – Robinpaw couldn't imagine how Kestrelpaw was feeling now.

"Robinpaw?" Leafpool wondered.

"I'm going," Robinpaw conceded. His ears pricked at the sound of familiar pawsteps. "Just let me say 'hi' to Spottedpaw and Lionpaw, eh?"

"Make it quick," Leafpool told him. "I want those herbs sorted by sundown."

She gave his ear a brisk lick, and then turned away. Her pawsteps crossed the camp and thudded into the nursery, where Robinpaw sensed she must be checking on Brook. The expectant queen had been forced to fight in the battle, and it had taken a bit of a toll on her system and the little lives she protected. Brook was already going to give birth outside of her home in the mountains – she didn't need the added stress of the kits being hurt.

Robinpaw turned away and headed for the apprentice's den. Once he had been bitter and resentful of the fact that he had been forced into being a medicine cat – sometimes, those feelings still came up in the back of his throat like bile; but there was nothing he could do to change his position. Now he just felt… confused. Scared.

 _That battle might have been my fault,_ he thought, thinking of his "sign". All his dreams, from the moment he was born, had been full of color and light and he could _see_ as well as any cat that had been born with working eyes – not that one. That sign had been a confusing mash of darkness, smells, and sounds – his waking life thrown into his dream world. _So many were hurt because of me – Morningflower died!_

He had hoped to find answers last night, with StarClan – but they offered him none. He sighed.

"What's with the frown?"

Robinpaw turned to the sound of the voice: Lionpaw, his eldest brother. Spottedpaw was with him, smoothing his fur with her tongue from the sound of things. The grooming stopped as Robinpaw approached.

"Hear something bad last night?" his sister asked, concern in her voice.

"You know I can't talk to you about my dreams," Robinpaw insisted tiredly.

"You told us about _that_ one," Lionpaw pointed out.

"That's different," Robinpaw said.

 _There will be three, kin of his kin, with the power of the stars in their paws… yes, that's how it went._ It had been a while since he'd heard the prophecy. He knew – he had been told – it applied to he and his siblings. They each had a power, something unique, that they needed to use to save their Clan from TigerClan.

"I hope you haven't been talking about it," Robinpaw offered, conscious of the other apprentices and warriors milling about. "Some cats have big ears."

Lionpaw scoffed, "Of course not!"

"We've only talked about it in private, or with you," Spottedpaw added. "No one else knows."

"Good," Robinpaw agreed, quietly. "It needs to stay that way until we figure more of it out."

Robinpaw heard Lionpaw take a breath, as if he was about to say something, but Spottedpaw cut him off: "So… did you see Barkface at all?"

Swallowing, Robinpaw felt his limbs stiffen. "No," he answered honestly. He had been doing his best to find Barkface amongst the stars, but the old medicine cat was nowhere to be found. Not a trace of his scent lay in the brightest parts of StarClan's hunting grounds. If some cat had wanted to give Robinpaw a message, they had probably been unable to find him.

"That's… too bad," Lionpaw grunted. He shifted on his paws. "Everyone's still talking about it, you know? What happened. Who killed him."

"It's all speculation," Spottedpaw added quickly. "And we shouldn't let it get to us."

"I don't know," Robinpaw said, shaking his head. "Whatever happened to Barkface… wherever he is… it's important; I know it."

Robinpaw let out a great yawn. When his jaws closed, some cat yowled from across the clearing, the words too muddled for Robinpaw's tired ears. He heard his siblings' heart rates elevate as they stood up in reply.

"What's going on?" Robinpaw wondered.

"We're having our patrol assessment today," Lionpaw replied. "If we pass, we -"

"Yeah, yeah; if you pass, you can go on patrols," Robinpaw breathed. "I know."

"We'll be careful," Spottedpaw promised. "We won't do anything risky."

Robinpaw's tail flicked. "I know," he told her. "But you haven't even passed the assessment yet. You've got to do that first before I start worrying. I don't want to be dressing your wounds again."

Lionpaw scoffed again. He chuckled, "The only wounds you'll be dressing on me are scratches."

"Don't get arrogant," Robinpaw grumbled. "It may be hard for you to be hurt, but I'm sure you can still be hurt. We don't know everything about our powers yet so it's best to act like we don't have them, yeah?"

Lionpaw snorted, but Spottedpaw meowed in agreement, "We know." She padded up and touched her nose to his. "Get some sleep, Robinpaw. You've had a long night."

Robinpaw nodded in agreement. He listened to the sounds of their pawsteps crossing the clearing before he headed back to the medicine cat's den.

 _We have all the power… but we can't even save one cat,_ he thought as he walked. _What's it all worth, then, if we can't even save one life…?_

Robinpaw could hear Cinderpaw chatting before he entered the medicine cat's den. He felt her paws worrying at the ground – just three paws, not four, thanks to the injury she'd gotten during a battle with TigerClan over the old Twoleg nest. She had been thrown up against a rock, and her father Brackenfur had died protecting her.

His ears twitched at the sound of her voice. She seemed more chipper, at least. Robinpaw could hear her and Leafpool talking, and though Leafpool was tired Robinpaw sensed that she was utterly interested in what the injured apprentice had to say.

"… I swear, they don't go anywhere without each other now!" Cinderpaw purred.

"Oh?" Leafpool wondered. "And you know this how…?"

"I'm stuck in camp all day because of this dumb leg, remember?" Cinderpaw grunted. "I see a _lot_ of things." Robinpaw heard Cinderpaw shift her stiff leg across the stone floor.

"You'd see more if you'd do your exercises," Leafpool told her. "Your leg looks stiff as a stick!"

"Yeah, but -"

"No 'buts'," Leafpool insisted. "Go do your exercises. Rolling moss can wait."

Robinpaw heard Cinderpaw sigh. Since she couldn't return to warrior training yet, Cinderpaw had offered to help out around the medicine cat's den since Barkface was gone. Leafpool had accepted the help, but it certainly did keep Cinderpaw cooped up – the energetic apprentice was running out of things to do.

Cinderpaw got up and crossed to a roomier part of the den. Robinpaw flicked his tail to her when he passed, and got a mew of greeting in return. Robinpaw settled himself next to his mother and felt around for the drying moss that Cinderpaw had been rolling. He grabbed a bit in his paws and began rolling along with his mother.

"Get some sleep, Robinpaw," Leafpool fretted. Robinpaw's ears picked up the kneading of her paws against the crackly moss stems. "You've had a long night and you need your rest."

"So do you," Robinpaw remarked.

"I won't fight you on this," Leafpool said tiredly. "Go to sleep."

Robinpaw sighed. "I will, I will – but what was Cinderpaw so excited about?"

Leafpool huffed, "You don't know?"

Robinpaw shook his head.

"Whitewing and Weaselfur have gotten especially close since the battle," Leafpool told him, quietly. "Cinderpaw says that they're practically attached by the tail. She says kits are imminent, but I think they need more time."

Robinpaw frowned. "That's a good thing, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes," Leafpool agreed, "but not every cat will think so."

Robinpaw cocked his head. If they cared for one another, why would it matter?

"Before all this started Whitewing was ThunderClan and Weaselfur was WindClan," Leafpool told him, sensing his confusion. "Such a relationship was taboo and forbidden, as I'm sure you know."

 _How could I forget?_ Robinpaw thought. He and his siblings had a medicine cat for a mother and a formerly-WindClan tom for a father! Though no cat had ever taken any of that out on them, when it came to other kits it had been popular to insult the three of them during playtime. Harepaw had been particularly bad about it, until Bramblestar and Onestar put a stop to it altogether.

"Some of the older cats in LionClan will think that it's a bad thing," Leafpool went on. "Our two Clans mixing during this time. What will happen to the kits when LionClan disbands? Where will they go? Will Whitewing and Weaselfur still want to see one another?"

"… I see," Robinpaw mewed. He was tired, but he understood. "Maybe the warrior code will change?"

"Maybe," Leafpool sighed. "But until then those two are… outside of it, as it were. For now." She kneaded at the moss some more. Then, she insisted, "Get some sleep, Robinpaw. You're not even rolling these balls right, and you've promised to sort the herb store."

Robinpaw nodded, sensing with his paws that he hadn't done too good of a job. _That's OK,_ he thought, pushing himself to his paws. _With Cinderpaw to help out you'll be fine, mother. She likes rolling moss, and she knows the basic herbs if you need anything._

He turned away and sluggishly shuffled to his nest. Lying down, curling himself tight, he pressed against Kestrelpaw. The dappled tom was already fast asleep. Robinpaw rested his head on his paws as a shudder ran through him.

 _If I see Silverhawk, I don't know…_ His nighttime training with the warrior was beginning to wear Robinpaw thin, and he had his own suspicions about the trustworthiness of the other tom. Ever since his dream before the battle…

He shook his head. Robinpaw tried not to think of the dream, and honestly he hoped no cat ever brought it up again. He warning had been a confusing lie, and Robinpaw wasn't sure where the dream had come from in the first place.

Robinpaw pushed the thoughts from his mind. He got more comfortable, and as he buried himself in his nest he could hear Cinderpaw grunting with her exercises. According to Barkface and Leafpool, Cinderpaw ought to have been better by now – what was stopping her?

Heavy with sleep, Robinpaw thought, _I wonder if there's something… I can…_ He wasn't able to finish the thought. Sleep washed over him like a gentle wave.

* * *

Robinpaw woke up with a start, his eyes opening to take in the world around him as he could only do in dreams. Green fungi glowed at the base of dark trees whose branches interlocked and created a dark ceiling to the woods around him. A faint stink lingered in the air, one that Robinpaw knew well. Getting to his paws, Robinpaw sighed.

 _I'm back here again,_ he thought dismally. He'd hoped for a break from Silverhawk, whose lessons were becoming more and more aggressive.

He opened his jaws. He didn't scent Silverhawk, but there was another smell – one he knew. Robinpaw's ears pricked and he began following the scent. The twisted forest moved around him, creating a path to match the scent as he walked.

The path opened into an unremarkable clearing where the scent was strongest. Its edges were tufted with scraggly bushes and a dirty stream bubbled around its edge. Robinpaw padded into the clearing, his tail flicking in curiosity. Where were they? He knew they were here. He opened his jaws again.

"Robinpaw!"

Robinpaw closed his jaws and turned around. The dark she-cat was standing there, with her dappled pelt and lighter chest and bright yellow eyes wide with shock and confusion. There was a fresh scratch down her side, and her throat looked scuffed. Robinpaw's whiskers twitched.

"Starlingthorn," he meowed in greeting. "There you are."

"Oh?" Starlingthorn wondered. She flicked her dappled tail. "You were looking for me? Aren't you supposed to be with -?"

"I couldn't find him," Robinpaw told her. "Silverhawk wasn't around."

"Oh," Starlingthorn breathed. "I see." She settled onto her haunches. "So, what's bothering you?"

Robinpaw tipped his head. Truthfully, he had many questions buzzing in his mind, about this place and about her and the other cats in the woods – but he had a feeling that she wouldn't give information easily.

"One of my Clanmates has a leg injury," Robinpaw told her. He felt bad telling her when he didn't even know what Clan she was from, but he wanted her to trust him enough to give him more information. "She's had it for a while and we're worried it might become permanent. Her exercises hurt too much and we know she's been skipping them."

Starlingthorn's tail twitched. "Well," she murmured, "I'm no medicine cat… but a friend of mine once had an injury like that. We were training together and she landed badly from out of a tree, so we took her to a stream once the swelling went down and had her swim."

"Swim?"

Starlingthorn nodded. "The water sort of… held her up. It made it so it wasn't painful for her to move her leg, but she could still exercise the hurt out, you know?"

Robinpaw frowned. _I suppose that could work,_ he thought. The more he thought about it, the more he began affirming it in his mind. Yes, Cinderpaw might be able to walk! The thought made him happy – but he smelled blood, and that brought him out of his own head.

"Are you all right?" Robinpaw wondered.

Starlingthorn looked at the scratch. It was red and bleeding a little. Her whiskers twitched and she meowed, "I'm fine – just a bad run-in with someone's claws."

"Mapleshade?" He recalled the name of the cat she usually visited here.

"Not quite."

Robinpaw wasn't sure why, but her answer disturbed him.

"Starlingthorn," Robinpaw began.

"Yes?" she wondered.

"Do you… live here?" Robinpaw asked. "Or… are you… Are you a TigerClan cat?"

Starlingthorn's eyes widened. "I…" she began.

Robinpaw blurted, "I smelled your scent during the battle! What were you doing there?"

Starlingthorn flattened her ears and she opened her jaws, but she jerked instead of speaking. Robinpaw took a step towards her, but Starlingthorn was fading away.

"I'm sorry," she meowed. "I have to go."

"No," Robinpaw insisted. "Don't!"

"I'll tell you," Starlingthorn promised. "I will! I…"

She was gone.

Robinpaw fell back onto his haunches, heart beating in his ears.

 _The one cat I can trust in this dark place…_ he thought grimly, _might just be an enemy warrior…_


	4. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 _Sunshine beat down upon the_ camp. Starlingthorn felt the heat gathering beneath her pelt, and as she ate she wished for the slightest breeze to shake it away. Her muscles felt stiff and she was still rather tired – the half-moon had been the night before, and she'd barely gotten any sleep thanks to the warrior ceremonies of Minnowleap, Pouncetail, and Pebblefall, TigerClan's last apprentices.

Beside her sat Hawkstar, who was gnawing at a sparrow. Starlingthorn could tell he was displeased with the amount of feathers in his meal, but she knew that her mate was too proud to ask for anything different.

It was still strange, thinking of Hawkstar as her mate – a quarter-moon ago, when he'd confessed his feelings by the lake, Starlingthorn had been stunned. Never had she seen such emotion in his ice-blue eyes, such real, raw feeling. Despite Starlingthorn's misgivings – and her mission – she had admitted to her own feelings for the TigerClan leader. They had been mates ever since, much to some cats' displeasure.

Frankly, Starlingthorn was nervous. Blackclaw, TigerClan's former deputy, had come close to killing her in the battle at LionClan's camp – only to be killed himself. Soon after Ashfur confessed that he knew all about Starlingthorn's mission to destroy TigerClan – and that he wouldn't hesitate to eliminate her should she become a threat. There was no evidence yet that Hawkstar knew of his mate's destiny, but how long would that last?

She shook the thoughts from her head and took another bite of shrew. As she rolled the soft meat in her mouth she drifted her thoughts to Robinpaw, the LionClan apprentice who had been sucked into the Dark Forest, training ground for TigerClan cats. Robinpaw still seemed to have no idea where he actually was, and Starlingthorn worried what might happen to him if he found out.

 _TigerClan is using him_ , she thought with frustration. _Using him to spy on LionClan. That's how we found out about the tunnels, because Robinpaw stumbled into one. They even sent him a false sign in order to greaten TigerClan's chances of winning. That poor young cat!_

Starlingthorn pushed aside her feelings and sighed into her meal. Robinpaw was an admittedly easy target – being blind in the waking world made him bitter, and his position as a medicine cat apprentice gave him an informative place in LionClan. But Starlingthorn sensed something different about him, something powerful – and she was trying to get him to realize just how dangerous being in the Dark Forest would be.

"Something the matter?"

Starlingthorn looked up from her meal. Hawkstar was looking at her, a spark of concern in his eyes.

"No," Starlingthorn replied. "I'm fine; just tired."

"Me, too," Hawkstar agreed. "But it was worth it – the match last night was very good! Our apprentices are learning well."

Starlingthorn nodded in agreement. Despite where the young cats were receiving their training, Starlingthorn had to admit that it was good training. Certainly more advanced than what LionClan was teaching their apprentices – but TigerClan had thrown out the warrior code for the most part. Killing blows were not wasted here.

"I'm thinking the elders can take over the apprentice's duties," Hawkstar went on, "until Tawnypelt's kits are apprenticed. Our warriors can't be wasted cleaning dens."

"Really?" Starlingthorn mewed. She recalled being told that the elders had done their time, and that they deserved peace and rest. Was he really going to bring them out of their well-earned retirement to clean the dens?

Hawkstar nodded. "Our Clan is expanding," he told her. "We're going to need to keep up our borders and the fresh-kill pile if we're going to make it through this war as victors. In fact, I was thinking that I might have the elders take over those duties permanently, to give apprentices more time for training."

Starlingthorn threw him a concerned look. Though most of TigerClan's cats were fully supportive of Hawkstar's new ideas, she knew that there were some who wouldn't hesitate to speak against him.

"Don't worry," Hawkstar told her. "It's just a thought."

He laid his tail over hers, and Starlingthorn sighed. She turned back to her meal. As she was finishing her shrew, she caught eyes with another group of warriors eating just outside their den. One glanced her way, then turned back to his friends. From their bristling fur, Starlingthorn wagered that they were unhappy with her.

 _I was a loner, and now I'm your leader's mate,_ she thought reflectively. _I was never that popular here to begin with. I guess it's not possible to win everyone's favor._ She had friends, however, and that was what counted – even if she would end up betraying them in the end.

Just beyond the warrior's den, the nursery reeds twitched. Out came Tawnypelt, her dappled pelt shining in the sunlight. She shook out her coat, gave her whiskers a few quick licks, and then headed for Hawkstar and Starlingthorn.

"Hawkstar," she called as she approached.

"Yes?" Hawkstar wondered. He had finished his sparrow, and now he was grooming the feathers from his pelt. Starlingthorn polished her shrew and began helping, getting between his toes in the hopes of avoiding some form of conflict. Tawnypelt and Hawkstar hardly got along.

"I want to speak to you about Redkit," Tawnypelt began. "He -"

"I want to speak with you about him, too," Hawkstar grunted, interrupting his half-sister. "I want him out of the medicine cat's den – it's no place for a kit."

Tawnypelt frowned. Starlingthorn did her best to seem like she wasn't part of this conversation – she'd heard Hawkstar complaining about Redkit more than once after having seen him wandering about the medicine cat's den. To Starlingthorn, however, it didn't seem like the little tom was causing any trouble.

"Hawkstar," Tawnypelt said, "Redkit keeps going back to the medicine cat's den because he wants to be a medicine cat apprentice."

Hawkstar flinched at her words. "Why?" he hissed. "We have two medicine cats!"

"Yes, and look how long it's taken us to recover from the battle!" Tawnypelt threw back. "Redkit has been helping with small things: sorting herbs, rolling moss… he even took a thorn out of someone's pad! But he's becoming very interested in helping out more. Why deny him that, when our medicine cats have too many warriors to keep up with?"

Hawkstar frowned in thought.

Starlingthorn put in, "She is right. LionClan came out of the battle far worse than we did, yet our patrols report that their wounds are already memories. We still have some warriors who need poultices reapplied – Mothwing and Willowshine need the help."

Hawkstar glanced at her. Starlingthorn feared he might snap at her, throw her words away, but he turned to Tawnypelt and meowed, "I'll think about it."

Tawnypelt's eyes brightened. "Thank you," she purred.

"Redkit can continue helping out, if that's what he wants," Hawkstar went on. "But make sure to see that he doesn't get into anything dangerous."

"I will," Tawnypelt agreed.

She turned and trotted away, heading back to the nursery. Starlingthorn watched her go. This was probably one of the few times Tawnypelt actually agreed with her half-brother – she was normally the one to speak out against him first.

"It's bad enough I have to see Mothwing waste herself at being a medicine cat," Hawkstar grumbled, "now I have to watch one of my nephews?"

"If it makes them happy, it's not anything we can help," Starlingthorn told him. She licked Hawkstar around the ear. "I'm glad you're considering it."

Hawkstar purred and Starlingthorn began grooming her mate's ears. They sat together, sharing tongues in silence for a brief moment before the pattering of paws broke them apart.

"Eaglekit and Rosekit are gone!"

Starlingthorn and Hawkstar got to their paws immediately – but not as fast as the kits' father, Rowanclaw. The dark ginger deputy was at Tawnypelt's side in an instant, tail fluffed in alarm.

"Missing?" he growled. The warriors who were left in camp pricked their ears at the commotion.

"Missing!" Tawnypelt repeated. "I came back into the nursery, and they were gone! No one knows where they went off to!"

"Search the camp," TigerClan's other deputy, Russetfur, ordered. "Every bush! Find them!"

The Clan broke up into groups. Starlingthorn glanced at Hawkstar, who nodded. Starlingthorn headed for Tawnypelt and Rowanclaw. A few warriors were already up and volunteering to search outside the camp.

"Voletooth," Rownclaw decided, "You're with me. We'll search around the camp first, then go towards the moorland." Voletooth nodded in agreement.

"I'll go with you, Tawnypelt," Starlingthorn offered.

"Sure," Tawnypelt agreed. "We'll check the rest of the territory."

"They can't have wandered too far," Russetfur pointed out, "but we don't know what LionClan will do if they see a pair of TigerClan kits in their territory." She looked at Tawnypelt, "We'll make sure Redkit stays put. Go – I'll send a messenger if we find them here."

Tawnypelt nodded. "Let's go," she meowed.

Starlingthorn followed the dappled she-cat out of the camp. Worry propelled her forward, and she prayed to whomever could hear that the kits were all right.

* * *

"Smell anything?" Starlingthorn wondered.

"A little," Tawnypelt sighed. The tortoiseshell queen poked at a hole in the reed-and-bracken barrier. Starlingthorn approached and gave the hole a sniff. Kit-scent. "They must have wiggled out when I was talking with you and Hawkstar, the little…"

Tawnypelt let out a frustrated growl. "When I get them back, oh are they going to get it!" she snorted.

Starlingthorn breathed in the kit's scent. "It goes that way, towards the pines," she observed, flicking to the area with her tail. "We ought to be able to catch up to them quickly, their legs aren't that long."

Tawnypelt nodded in agreement. She led the way, and Starlingthorn followed. They crossed the territory, the ground beneath their paws changing as they went. Moist, grassy plains gave way to needle-covered earth scented with peat. Pine shoots swayed in the slight breeze, barely holding their little needles. Bigger trees held up much better before them.

The kits' scent led the two she-cats to a boggier area near the lake, a mix of pine needles, pebbles, and the long-broken husk of a fallen ash. Starlingthorn and Tawnypelt stopped just at the top of the hill, pausing to look down.

"Great StarClan – Starlingthorn, look!"

Tawnypelt's urgent hiss mad Starlingthorn see more of the area below them. She saw squirming bits of fluff inside the husk of the ash, and pacing around them, jaws slavering, was a skinny vixen.

 _A fox!_ Starlingthorn's tail bristled, and she cast an anxious glance at Tawnypelt. Whatever the kits had done, if they didn't act fast the fox would gobble them up.

Tawnypelt's eyes were full of a mother's frantic worry, but she flicked her tail and Starlingthorn understood – split up and attack the fox from both sides. Confuse her, and she would flee.

Starlingthorn dropped into a low crouch and began creeping down the slope. Tawnypelt dropped low, too, and gave herself a wide berth as she crawled around the opposite side. Moving in tandem, the two she-cats settled themselves in a frock of brambles. The two she-cats locked eyes.

Tawnypelt blinked, and the two of them charged at once.

The fox let out a squeal as Starlingthorn crashed into her shoulder and Tawnypelt gripped her tail between her jaws. Starlingthorn got back to her paws and lashed out, catching the vixen on the cheek. The fox let out a shriek and fled – but not without leaving half of her tail fur behind in Tawnypelt's mouth.

Immediately Tawnypelt streaked for her kits. While the tortoiseshell queen was comforting her little ones, Starlingthorn kept her eyes and jaws open, scenting for more danger. Foxes were solitary creatures, sure, but there was no telling whether or not there was more than one.

"That was awesome!"

Starlingthorn pricked her ear at the close squeal. Rosekit was bouncing on her paws, looking up at Starlingthorn with glimmering eyes despite her brush of danger.

"What was?" Starlingthorn asked.

"The way you hit that mean fox!" Rosekit purred. She paused in her bouncing to box at the air, trying to mimic Starlingthorn's strike. "I want to learn how to fight like that!"

"Enough!" Tawnypelt hissed. She was glaring at Rosekit. "Rosekit, get over here at once and let me look at you!"

Rosekit turned about and headed back to her mother. Starlingthorn watched Tawnypelt groom Eaglekit and Rosekit, looking for any wounds or scratches or the slightest bit of out-of-place fur. Starlingthorn admired Tawnypelt's ability to be a fierce fighter, yet a tempered and caring mother.

 _I wonder if I'll be like that to any kits I have,_ she thought. Kits, however, were the last thing on her mind at the moment.

Starlingthorn reported, "There aren't other foxes about, but I don't know if that one will come back. We should get going."

"Not just yet," Tawnypelt decided. She looked at her kits, and then thrust her muzzle at them and demanded, "What were you two _thinking?"_

Eaglekit and Rosekit both balked, but Eaglekit managed, "W-We were bored!"

"So you _leave camp?"_

Eaglekit and Rosekit exchanged a glance. Rosekit piped up, "R-Redkit's been so boring lately, since he's been p-playing with the medicine cats. Eaglekit and I wanted to have an adventure… W-We were just going to go outside of camp and come back, we swear!"

Starlingthorn frowned. She didn't think Rosekit was lying. She asked, "What made you come out here, into the pines?"

"We smelled something!" Eaglekit told them. "Some _one!"_

"The fox, you mean?" Tawnypelt asked.

"No!" Eaglekit insisted. "The fox smells bad, but she didn't come at us until we got here! We smelled a funny _cat_ scent and…" He trailed off.

Rosekit picked it up: "Hawkstar always talks about how good warriors make sure trespassers don't stay on our territory too long. We were just trying to be good warriors, Mama! We just wanted to see what the strange cat was up to."

Starlingthorn and Tawnypelt exchanged a glance. Starlingthorn offered, "I'll stay here and look for this scent – you take the kits back." She looked at them, her heart pinching with sympathy – Hawkstar would be fierce in punishing them, she was sure. For good measure, Starlingthorn added, "Tell Hawkstar I said to go easy on them. They're just kits."

Tawnypelt sighed. "I know," she agreed. "Be careful, Starlingthorn."

Starlingthorn nodded and promised, "I won't be long." _With the fox stinking up the place and the kits' fear-scent around a cat-scent will be hard to detect._

Tawnypelt gathered her kits before her and the three headed off. Starlingthorn made sure they made it out of the pines safely before beginning her search for the stranger's scent.

 _Strangers don't come into TigerClan territory,_ Starlingthorn thought as she sniffed at the bushes. _Those cats at the Horseplace seem to have made it their mission to warn anyone from coming to the lake…_ They had tried warning Starlingthorn away, too, but with her "destiny" in mind she knew she couldn't afford to stay away.

Yet, when Starlingthorn brushed her muzzle against a broad leaf, she drew back in shock. There _was_ a scent here – faint, possibly a few days old, but it was there. She pressed her nose to it again, breathing it in deep.

She pulled away in shock.

 _I know that scent!_ She realized. A flooding tide of thoughts and memories and emotions crashed into her, almost pulling her off her paws. Starlingthorn pulled herself back together, forcing everything back. She sniffed the leaf again. There was no mistaking it – she knew this cat.

 _But what is she doing here?_


	5. Chapter 3

**Sorry. Along with a few other errors in the Allegiances, Rosekit's name happens to be one of them. With the kits names being how they are on the Allegiances that I post, it's really easy to forget to change them. On my notes she's Rosekit, so Rosekit she will stay.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 _Ferns brushed against Spottedpaw's pelt_ as they passed. The fronds felt cool despite the heat beating down onto her dark pelt. The whole of the forest was trapped with still, hot air, made worse by the canopy of greenleaf-green leaves overhead. The ground felt slightly soft underpaw, however, and Spottedpaw was grateful that the leaves were keeping the ground from becoming dust.

"It feels great out here!" Lionpaw breathed beside her, his thick, golden ruff fluffed. His eyes were bright and his whiskers were twitching energetically. "After a quarter-moon of doing nothing but being cramped up in camp, this is great!"

Spottedpaw rolled her eyes as he went on: "At least Heatherpaw and Breezepaw got to go outside, even if it was just to lead everyone to those tunnels. _I_ was stuck because I didn't pass my patrol assessment – now here I am! Passed and ready to go!"

"Not if you keep crowing like that," Sorreltail chided, looking back at her apprentice. She, Birchfall, and Brightheart, Spottedpaw's mentor, were a fox-length ahead. Birchfall was in the lead, this being his patrol. "We'll send you back to camp."

"And you wouldn't have gotten into trouble in the first place if you'd told someone about those tunnels," Spottedpaw pointed out to her brother. "If we'd known earlier, the battle might not have been as bad."

Lionpaw's eyes darkened, and Spottedpaw suddenly realized what she'd said. "Sorry," she told him, laying her tail on his haunches. "I didn't mean to make it seem like it was your fault."

"I know," Lionpaw sighed. "It feels like it sometimes, but I swear we didn't tell TigerClan about the tunnels, and we never went all the way through to their territory."

"We know," Brightheart soothed. Her marred face looked sympathetically at Lionpaw. "There was just as much of a chance of TigerClan finding the tunnels as there was for us to find them. No one could have thought the battle would happen because of them."

"They're all blocked up now," Sorreltail breathed, "and I sleep easier knowing that."

"We all do," Brightheart agreed.

Spottedpaw looked at Lionpaw, feeling concerned. Since they'd discovered that TigerClan had come through the tunnels, Lionpaw had been feeling guilty, wondering if he had somehow caused the battle. Heatherpaw and Breezpaw were having similar worries – they had been in the tunnels longer, and they'd discovered them first.

"Keep a lookout for Twolegs, Spottedpaw," Brightheart offered. "You too, Lionpaw – they still take walks along the trails here."

Spottedpaw nodded and opened her jaws – nothing. She closed them and kept close to her brother as they padded along their well-worn paths through the undergrowth. Spottedpaw was glad that Brightheart was back to being her mentor full-time – she had been helping Leafpool after Barkface's death, dealing with the small wounds with her own medicinal knowledge.

 _I miss Brackenfur, but I'm glad I have a mentor who is just as noble,_ Spottedpaw decided. She had looked up to Brackenfur, aspiring to be just like him – but his death had rattled her, and Spottedpaw was glad that she was beginning to recover. Brackenfur's death was still unpunished, but life needed to go on. Revenge was something that could wait.

Birchfall led the way along the trail until the familiar trees began intersecting with pine woods. Spottedpaw scented TigerClan, and her hackles rose as she sensed the incoming border. Birchfall slowed his pace and the patrol matched – Spottedpaw's legs were throbbing from all the walking but she did her best to remain silent.

The patrol stalked along the border, silent, marking their markers quickly. Spottedpaw did her best to keep her fur down, constantly looking into the woods and expecting a TigerClan battle patrol was beginning to make her nervous.

Lionpaw was fidgeting beside her. Sorreltail blinked at them and meowed quietly, "It's all right – no matter their tricks, we'll scent them before we see them."

Spottedpaw opened her jaws, wincing as she breathed in the sharp tang of TigerClan, a harsh mix of fish and peat bog that stung her scent glands. She shook her head to clear it, then opened her jaws again – TigerClan, yes, but there was something else, something more pungent…

"Fox!" hissed Birchfall.

The moment he hissed the word the bushes on the other side of the border exploded with a bright ginger streak. The vixen was thin and lean and crashed right into Brightheart with a pained yelp. Immediately Sorreltail and Birchfall leaped to action, while Spottedpaw and Lionpaw took several steps back in shock.

"Get it out of here!" snapped Sorreltail.

The tussle was short. Spottedpaw's head throbbed as she watched the echoes blur and muddle her vision, glowing and fading and mimicking the very moves each fighter would make before they made them. She closed her eyes.

Spottedpaw opened her eyes a moment later when the fox yelped – Sorreltail, Brightheart, and Birchfall were on their paws, staring at the bushes as they waved violently. Spottedpaw could see the ginger flash of the fox as it bounded away.

"It's gone," Birchfall reported, panting. "Is anyone hurt?"

"A scratch, but I'm fine," Brightheart meowed. "I can keep going."

"How about you two?" Birchfall wondered. "That fox was… quite the surprise."

Spottedpaw kneaded her paws into the ground. Lionpaw meowed, "We're fine; just shocked, is all."

"It's in our territory now," Spottedpaw pointed out. "Shouldn't we go after it?"

"We will," promised Sorreltail.

"Right now, though, there's something else," Birchfall added. "Just before the fox came out, I scented a strange cat-scent. No one in the Clan, and it didn't smell like TigerClan either."

Spottedpaw opened her jaws. The fox-scent was strong, as was TigerClan, but she did detect a hint of something more unfamiliar beneath it all. A stranger had passed this way not too long ago.

"A rogue?" Brightheart wondered.

Birchfall nodded. "I think so," he agreed. "The border's marked for the most part – someone else can finish. Let's go back and report all this."

* * *

"Swimming?" Leafpool repeated, her tone shocked. "You think that Cinderpaw should _swim?"_

Robinpaw nodded. "Like I said, the water would hold her up and make it so she doesn't have to put so much weight on her paws. She can exercise her leg without hurting herself!"

He heard his mother scuffle her paws with uncertainty. "It sounds plausible…" she murmured. Then, she sighed. "I wish I could speak with Mothwing about it – she would know more."

Robinpaw fidgeted uncomfortably. He knew that medicine cats didn't have the same rules as warriors, and that boundaries didn't mean much to them – but right now Leafpool would be mad to try and speak with either of TigerClan's medicine cats. Who knew if they could be trusted, anyway?

"Come on," Cinderpaw added. She was listening near the puddle of water at the back of the den. Robinpaw could hear her paws scuffling as they worked moss into balls. "I'd do anything to make my leg work right again!"

Leafpool sighed once more. "We can try, but that's all we can do," she decided. In a low voice, she murmured, "Cinderpaw needs to want her leg fixed as much as we do regardless."

The ferns at the entrance of the den rustled. Kestrelpaw's voice echoed through the cavern: "Leafpool – a patrol is back early!"

"Injuries?" Leafpool asked.

"Brightheart has a scratch," Kestrelpaw reported.

"I'll be out in a moment," Leafpool promised.

 _Brightheart…_ Robinpaw thought. _She was on Birchfall's patrol, with Lionpaw and Spottedpaw! If she has a scratch, then that means…_

"Robinpaw, Cinderpaw, come on," Leafpool meowed, breaking through her son's thoughts. "Let's check out what's going on."

Anxiously Robinpaw followed his mother out into the camp. Ferns brushed against his pelt, dry and crackly from the greenleaf heat. Cinderpaw huffed and puffed as she limped out behind them. Leafpool's pelt smelled of dock, and Robinpaw sensed that she was carrying some for Brightheart's scratches.

Outside the den the camp was buzzing with heat and activity. Robinpaw could hear voices and pawsteps clamoring everywhere, and if he hadn't been used to it already it would have been overwhelming.

"A fox!" Birchfall was cursing. "We ran into it along the border, near the old Twoleg nest. Took us by surprise!"

 _A fox!_ Robinpaw quickly sniffed the air. He smelled fox, but it was faint on the pelts of the patrol. Blood tinged the air, but not enough to make Robinpaw fear for more injuries. The fear-scent of the Clan was far stronger.

"Where's Brightheart?" Leafpool asked.

"Here," Brightheart replied. She was near Birchfall, from the sound. "I'm fine," she insisted, "it's just a little scratch."

"Even little scratches can get infected," Leafpool assured her. "I've some dock here."

"I can manage with it," Brightheart assured her.

The dock-scent shifted as Leafpool passed the leaves to Brightheart. Robinpaw knew that Brightheart had helped in the medicine den often in the past, and her help when Barkface died was essential to most of the Clan's recovery. Brightheart had offered to fill in for Barkface whenever Leafpool needed her to, but Leafpool had politely declined. Brightheart had other priorities, with Spottedpaw for an apprentice.

Dock was sharp in the air as Brightheart began chewing the leaves. Robinpaw rushed up to his siblings and began sniffing every inch of them – despite their protests, he sighed with relief when he found no evidence of harm on either of them.

"We're fine," Lionpaw sighed. "Stop fretting! You're like Mother!"

"Better he be like Mother than not care at all," Spottedpaw pointed out. Robinpaw felt the jab at Crowfeather as if it were a physical blow. Crowfeather cared for them, but he certainly wasn't around now.

"So what happened?" Robinpaw wondered. "Where is this fox?"

"She escaped," Sorreltail answered, her voice loud and broad for everyone to hear. "Ran right into us like she'd just been chased out – she didn't stick around to fight."

"She obviously didn't expect us," Birchfall grunted.

"But she's still on our territory," Leafpool pointed out.

Brightheart piped up, "There was no milk-scent, so I think it's safe to say that it's just her."

"Regardless," Leafpool sighed, "no one should leave camp unprepared. I'll go speak with Bramblestar and Onestar. Birchfall, come with me and make your report."

Robinpaw sighed. _There goes Cinderpaw's swimming lessons… with that fox around we can't risk it,_ he thought. Hopefully the warriors would take care of the vixen quickly.

Leafpool and Birchfall quickly headed for the Highledge. Robinpaw anticipated an announcement, or at least a patrol to go and chase the fox out. Kestrelpaw and Cinderpaw headed back to the medicine cat's den. But as the Clan dissipated around them, chatting about the news, Lionpaw and Spottedpaw remained.

When it seemed like they were surrounded by silence, Lionpaw commented quietly, "That's not all we found."

Robinpaw's ear twitched.

"There was a scent," Spottedpaw whispered. "A stranger."

"A stranger?" repeated Robinpaw. "Are you both mad? No loner comes around here, not anymore."

"We smelled what we smelled," Lionpaw insisted. "The fox kicked up the scent of a loner or rogue – some cat that wasn't part of the Clans."

"We don't know where they are now, but they're around," Spottedpaw pointed out. "If they passed through once, it's likely they'll pass through again."

Robinpaw frowned. For a moment he thought that perhaps this loner could be Starlingthorn – but he knew he had never smelled her scent, and that perhaps in the dream world scents didn't matter. He didn't want to bring up the possibility, since under pain of punishment he still hadn't told his siblings about the dream world he visited.

"Regardless," Robinpaw told them, "there's a fox on the loose. You two need to be careful."

"We will," Spottedpaw promised.

Lionpaw scoffed and said, "I could probably take that skinny scrap of fur with my eyes closed!"

Robinpaw frowned. "Stop boasting, Lionpaw," he growled. "Unless you want every cat in LionClan to hear you!"

"Besides," Spottedpaw added, "we still don't have all the information about our… abilities. It's best that we don't get our heads too far up in the clouds!"

Lionpaw sighed and grunted, "Fine." His pawsteps scuffed the dry earth as he padded off, heading for the apprentices den. Spottedpaw lashed her tail, whipping up a stiff breeze before she trotted after him.

Robinpaw's frown deepened. _Lionpaw is the only one of us who is excited about our powers,_ he realized. _Spottedpaw is scared of it and wants to turn it off somehow, and me…_

His heart hurt as a sudden realization poured over him.

 _I don't even know what my power is!_


	6. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

" _Bend that branch more, Spottedpaw,"_ Dustpelt instructed gruffly. "Not too much though, or it'll break."

Spottedpaw forced her pelt to stay flattened, and Berryfrost threw her a sympathetic look. This was the fourth time that Dustpelt had tried telling her how to bend a branch, and the fourth time he'd changed his mind on how she ought to bend the branches. Spottedpaw took a deep breath and did her best to bend – but not break – the branch between her paws to weave it into the others.

The nursery was coming along well – with the addition of Brook and now Whitewing, it was in need of expansion to fit the new queens and their kits. Spottedpaw and Berryfrost had been put on the thrilling task of helping Dustpelt work on it, and it was already sunhigh.

"Papa! Papa!"

Spottedpaw's ears rang as Foxkit and Icekit called to Dustpelt. With the nursery being worked on, Ferncloud, Daisy, and the kits had to move as well – both were grateful to stretch their legs and with three cats right by the nursery it seemed they'd found (unwilling) kit-sitters.

"Yes?" Dustpelt wondered to his little ones.

Spottedpaw was pushing leaves into the gaps of the sticks as Foxkit chirped, "Can we ride on your back?"

Berryfrost winced beside Spottedpaw. The whole Clan knew just how badly the TigerClan attack had hurt Dustpelt's back – several warriors had piled upon him while he was defending the nursery. The kits, however, didn't seem to realize that their father was hurt at all, or that he hadn't been on a patrol since the battle.

"Sorry, son," Dustpelt rasped. "Not today."

"You _always_ say that," complained Foxkit.

Spottedpaw could almost feel the sorrow coming from Dustpelt. He was a prickly warrior, but he was a devoted father and he loved all his kits. Not being able to play and spend time with them must have felt awful.

Behind them, Dustpelt sighed. He meowed: "You two seem to have it handled for now. I'm going to go see Leafpool… let me know if you need me."

"Can we come?" Icekit asked.

Spottedpaw didn't hear Dustpelt shake his head. "No, you're not allowed in Leafpool's den," he said. "Too many little paws in a small place, and too much to chew."

"Well… come back soon!" called Foxkit.

Spottedpaw turned to the kits. They were staring after their father, looking downtrodden. A pang of sadness hit Spottedpaw – how could Dustpelt tell his kits that he might not be able to play with them anymore?

Foxkit and Icekit weren't down for long. They turned and locked eyes on Spottedpaw and Berryfrost, and Spottedpaw's tail fluffed as she suddenly realized that they weren't about to get much work done.

It was Foxkit who piped up first: "What was the fox like?"

Spottedpaw frowned and glanced at Berryfrost. Every cat knew about the fox by now and Spottedpaw supposed that even kits listened hard sometimes. Berryfrost shrugged, looking confused, and Spottedpaw sighed.

"It was a vixen, skinny, and hungry," Spottedpaw explained. "It came on so suddenly I didn't get to see much else."

Foxkit's eyes dulled suddenly, and he pouted. Icekit chuckled and looked at Spottedpaw, who was visibly confused. Icekit mewed, "He heard about the fox and wondered if it looked like him!"

"Oh," Spottedpaw breathed.

Icekit turned to Foxkit and gave him a hearty shove. She chided, "Of course it wouldn't look like you, Foxkit – she's a fox, not a cat! Why'd you want to be a nasty fox?"

"I guess," Foxkit sighed. He looked up at Spottedpaw and Berryfrost. "Are the warriors going to chase her off?"

Berryfrost replied, "Birchfall took a patrol to do that – they should be back soon."

"Do you think the fox will hurt anyone?" Foxkit wondered. "Will they hurt the fox?"

"The warriors will try to drive her off without being hurt, and without hurting her too much," Berryfrost promised. "She'll have some scratches but she'll recover – but she won't come back if other animals are going to fight her."

Icekit's eyes flashed. "Well," she murmured, "at least she's not like TigerClan."

Foxkit froze up, eyes wide and frightened. Spottedpaw felt an uncomfortable prickle run down her spine, recalling that Foxkit and Icekit had only just opened their eyes when TigerClan had attacked a quarter-moon ago. Spottedpaw knew that the kits had to have been affected, but she didn't want to think of the nightmares the poor scraps had to deal with.

"D-Do… do you think TigerClan will attack again?" Icekit asked, her eyes large pools of worry. "I miss Morningflower bad, and… and I don't want to miss anyone else."

Spottedpaw's heart almost broke for the sadness in the kit's eyes. She thought of something to say but it didn't sound quite right. A moment later, she managed, "We all miss her. I… I don't think TigerClan will attack again right now."

"Hey, little ones," Berryfrost put in. The kits turned to him. "Mind trying to find a long, bendy stick? We need it for the nursery."

The kits swallowed and nodded, then scampered off. Spottedpaw watched them go, tiny ginger and white specks in the sunshine.

"Everyone's scared about TigerClan, now more than ever," Berryfrost mewed. Spottedpaw looked at her friend, startled by the diluted look in his eye. "It's kind of scary that kits are more open about it, isn't it?"

Spottedpaw swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "Y-Yeah," she breathed.

The two turned back to their work, drenched in an uncomfortable silence that only seemed to make the heat worse.

* * *

"So," Heatherpaw began, "the last of the tunnels is supposedly sealed up."

Lionpaw pricked his ears. Beside him, Breezepaw stirred as Heatherpaw shuffled into the apprentice's den. The heat of the day was radiating off of her pelt like a cloud, but Lionpaw was sure she'd be feeling cooler underneath the bush with the rest of them.

"For real?" Breezepaw wondered.

Heatherpaw nodded. "We scoured the whole territory before that fox came along. Didn't find anything." She settled down in her nest, tucking her paws underneath her. Lionpaw sat up, finding that Heatherpaw looked tired despite having had a full night's sleep.

She looked up at Lionpaw. "I'm sorry for getting you in trouble, too," she said. "I didn't mean it."

"I know," Lionpaw told her. He had stumbled upon Heatherpaw in the tunnels what seemed like forever ago – she hadn't told him about them until he'd discovered them himself, and they'd only used the tunnels to escape the pressures of apprenticeship. How could such a harmless intention go so wrong? "I just wish we'd known that TigerClan had known."

Breezepaw flicked an ear. "The only way TigerClan would have known was if one of us had said anything."

"Breezepaw!" Heatherpaw hissed. "We didn't even know the tunnels connected to TigerClan territory!"

Breezepaw snorted, "I _know._ "

Heatherpaw flicked her tail in thought. "Maybe they… maybe TigerClan knew about the tunnels all along?" she suggested. Her eyes darkened. "Maybe they were down there the whole time, spying on us?"

Lionpaw's pelt prickled with unease. If that was true, it would have explained how TigerClan knew where to go – scents stayed put in the tunnels, with no wind to scatter them. Lionpaw kneaded his paws into his nest and said nothing.

It was Breezepaw who spoke up: "If they'd known about the tunnels beforehand, I think TigerClan would have taken advantage of them. That's how they are, they don't wait." His eyes burned with bitterness.

Heatherpaw sighed and pointed out, "Either way, we need to keep on our toes. This was a huge blunder, even if it was just an accident. Cats were hurt because of us, and it'll take a long time for everyone to really forgive us."

Breezepaw sighed and rolled onto his back, eyes narrow slits. Heatherpaw scooted closer to him and began lapping at his belly fur. Breezepaw squirmed, but let her share tongues with him.

Lionpaw shifted on his paws and flopped onto his belly. He began licking his thick chest fur. The battle rushed through his mind again, the rush of excitement and energy he'd had then threatening to return. His paws trembled.

 _I wish I could have been in more places during the fighting,_ Lionpaw thought. He _knew_ he could have been everywhere – but Onestar had ordered him to stay put, and then Bramblestar had done the same. Didn't they see that he hadn't been harmed?

He glanced at Heatherpaw. _I'll use this power to protect everyone in this Clan, especially the cats I care about. The prophecy said that we Three would defeat TigerClan with our powers… and I intend to do just that._

* * *

"What do you think of sending Tornear?" Onestar wondered.

Bramblestar frowned. Heat was buzzing in his ears and his pelt felt sticky, even in the shade of the Highledge den. Outside the cicadas seemed to be out in force.

"He has to train Harepaw," Bramblestar reminded the other leader.

Onestar frowned. "He can train Harepaw just as well out on the moors," he pointed out. With a curl to his lip, the pale brown tom wondered, "You're denying every cat I put forth. Why?"

Bramblestar frowned back. "I think it's too soon to send cats out to the moors again," he stated. "I know keeping up our borders is difficult but -"

Onestar wasn't patient enough to listen. He snapped, "I will not sit here and leave that camp unprotected! I would rather _die_ than see TigerClan cats crawling around WindClan's territory!"

 _It's_ LionClan _territory,_ Bramblestar thought angrily. Instead he said, "TigerClan has just as much territory as we do – do you think that they'll want to patrol that, plus the moorland? Even for them it would be too much, and Hawkstar knows that."

"TigerClan didn't hesitate to ambush us in our own territory," Onestar growled. The fur along his spine bristled. "Nor did they hesitate to kill Barkface."

"We still don't know what really happened -"

Onestar's eyes flashed and he snarled, "Are you insinuating that someone from _LionClan_ killed Barkface? Has this heat made you _mad_ , Bramblestar?"

Bramblestar sighed. Onestar's hostility was grating and wearing, and he didn't feel like fighting him any longer. Shoulders sagging, Bramblestar meowed, "I'm just saying that all the details aren't clear. There were no witnesses, and there wasn't any other scent there but Barkface's."

He threw Onestar a sympathetic look. Barkface had been WindClan's medicine cat since before Onestar had been kitted, and he had been a sign of hope and home for the WindClan-born within LionClan. Losing him had been like losing part of their old camp.

"I'm sorry that he's gone," Bramblestar offered. "I miss him, too. He was wise and knowledgeable, and always seemed to know what to do or say. He's with StarClan now, I'm sure, no matter what happened to him."

Onestar frowned, but said nothing.

"Get Cloudtail and Ashfoot," Bramblestar suggested. "We'll have their help in deciding who to send."

"Very well," Onestar agreed. He got to his paws, his fur flattening slightly. Then, he suggested, "Bramblestar… one of us should go to the moorland camp."

Bramblestar's eyes widened. "We can't do that," he insisted. "Onestar, you lost a life during the battle, and you're lucky you didn't lose more!" Onestar hadn't many lives to spare, not so many as Bramblestar did. One great slip-up and Bramblestar could end up running LionClan with Ash _star!_ "With so few warriors there, it's not worth it to risk your neck -"

For a third time, Onestar interrupted him: "At least _one_ of us would be risking their neck!"

Bramblestar narrowed his eyes. "What's _that_ supposed to mean? I fought just as hard as any other cat, and Hawkstar nearly took one of my own lives, too!" If it hadn't been for Lionpaw intervening at just the right time, Bramblestar might have even lost _all_ of them.

"If you had fought harder, _he_ would have lost a life," Onestar spat back, "which would be one less of his wretched lives to deal with, wherever he got them from! And while he was down we could have torn the rest of his lives from him, like he deserves -"

This time, Bramblestar had had enough. He got to his paws and firmly, harshly, growled, _"Enough."_ Onestar paused as images of Tigerstar's brutal death swirled in Bramblestar's mind. All the blood, all the pain… the image of him dying, over and over… Tigerstar had been a brutal cat, dangerous and evil – and Hawkstar was much the same – but no cat deserved that fate.

"We are not savages like TigerClan," Bramblestar growled, his voice low. "No matter what, we will not cross that line. Now go and get our deputies."

Onestar narrowed his eyes at Bramblestar. Then, the skinny tom turned about and headed out. Bramblestar was about to let go of his hard exterior when Onestar, at the edge of the den, turned his head back and snarled, "Perhaps a little savagery is what is necessary to win this war."

Bramblestar sagged as Onestar disappeared outside, the anger blowing out of him as he exhaled – only to be replaced by worry. Onestar had always been difficult to deal with – surprising, since he had been such a friend to ThunderClan in the past – but now, with the battle behind him, Onestar seemed almost… volatile.

Throat dry, Bramblestar swallowed. He sat on his haunches and lamented, _If one more thing goes wrong, Onestar might just go over the edge…_

 _And where will LionClan be then?_


	7. Chapter 5

**That's not a mistake.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

 _Starlingthorn moved a pace away_ to dodge Eaglekit as he headed for the elder's den. Moss was stuffed into his mouth, and his tiny legs worked hard to keep up with Tallpoppy. Rosekit was ahead of them, scooping moss out of the nursery. Starlingthorn paused to watch, noting that the kits seemed happy.

 _I guess Hawkstar's punishment was a good thing,_ Starlingthorn thought. When the kits came back to camp, Hawkstar had sentenced them to helping the elders do apprentice tasks around camp. The kits had been heartbroken, but now it seemed like Eaglekit and Rosekit were enjoying their task – and the elders seemed to be enjoying the youthful energy the kits had. The two didn't even seem bitter that Redkit had avoided the punishment altogether through helping Mothwing and Willowshine around their den.

"Come on, Starlingthorn!" Owltail called. "You'll miss the meeting."

Starlingthorn pricked her ears and meowed, "I'm coming!" before heading over to the center of camp. Hawkstar had gathered the warriors up to discuss something, which Starlingthorn suspected had to do with the fox and the stranger in their territory. Starlingthorn settled down beside Owltail and Applenose, cats whom she considered her friends. To Starlingthorn's surprise, Dappleheart was on the other side of the clearing – usually she couldn't keep herself away from Owltail.

"Warriors!" Hawkstar announced, breaking Starlingthorn's thoughts. She looked to her mate, and when Hawkstar had everyone's attention he went on: "I have gathered you here to discuss something of importance – the stranger. They were scented on our territory, first by the kits and next by Starlingthorn and Tawnypelt two days ago."

"Their scent hasn't been found for a whole day," commented Oakfur. The older warrior raised his grizzled muzzle. "LionClan has a new moorland group stationed now – perhaps they've scared them off?"

"Perhaps," Hawkstar grunted. "But I doubt it." He turned to the crowd and meowed, "I want a group to go out and look for a possible camping spot for this stranger. Find where they are staying, and drive them out by any means necessary.

"I'll go," Starlingthorn offered immediately. She stepped forward, looking hopefully at Hawkstar and trying her best to hide how much she wanted to be the cat to find the stranger. _If they are who I think they are, driving them off might be a huge mistake…_

Hawkstar gave her an even look, then meowed, "No. The Clan needs prey, and I want you to lead a hunting party. Pick who you like and get going."

Starlingthorn flicked her tail, disappointed. She heard a few chuckles from the crowd, and she spotted a few sneering looks. Hawkstar denying her request must have seemed like a joke to those that disliked their leader's choice of mate, but Starlingthorn dipped her head in assent and stepped back.

"We'll go with you," Applenose offered, giving her a nudge. "I could use a chance to stretch my legs."

"Yeah," Owltail agreed. "Doing something _normal_ for a change might make us all less tense."

Starlingthorn nodded, relieved at their support. "What about Dapplenose?" she asked.

Owltail was quick to grumble, "Four cats will scare off prey and slow us down. Let's just get going, alright?" He turned away from them pointedly and headed for the entrance.

Starlingthorn threw Applenose a confused glance. The she-cats shrugged, then followed him outside the camp.

* * *

"She's just been _hounding_ me lately," Owltail sighed, exasperated. "I mean, it's fine and all – but it's a little much, you know? We didn't become warriors all that long ago and she wants to be mates right away…"

"You can't keep up?" Starlingthorn guessed.

"Yes," Owltail sighed, "and I'm not sure I _want_ to."

The three were well outside camp now, hunting in the lowlands of TigerClan's territory. The marshes weren't far off, and the lake was sparkling in the distance. When the three had been a safe distance from camp, Applenose had hazarded to ask why Owltail was avoiding Dapplenose – both she-cats were surprised when Owltail actually began explaining why.

"Well, I wish a she-cat would give _me_ that much attention," Applenose sighed dreamily. "Not sure why you're making a big deal of it!"

Owltail's eyes darted away from his companions. He muttered, "You ought to know why."

Applenose shut her jaws, and Starlingthorn twitched her tail in confusion. Owltail's tone had been severe and full of regret – as much as Starlingthorn wondered why, and how Applenose ought to know, she knew better than to pry. TigerClan warriors had their secrets, just as she had hers.

Together they padded down to the lake. Applenose and Owltail settled down and began fishing – despite both being ShadowClan born, being raised in TigerClan had made them adept at fishing. Starlingthorn, however, was still more of a novice… and rather uncomfortable around water.

It was sunhigh when Owltail commented, "Are you all right, Starlingthorn?"

"Hm?" Starlingthorn wondered. She was staring intently at the water, but much to her dismay there weren't any fish daring to get close. _I swear I'm doing everything right!_

"You've missed three fish," Applenose pointed out. "You're a bad fisher, but not _that_ bad."

Starlingthorn lifted her head and looked at her friend's catches. Owltail had caught three minnows, whilst Applenose had managed a carp. Starlingthorn had nothing to show but wet paws.

"Fish haven't been easy to come by since this heatwave started," Starlingthorn offered in her defense. It was a weak argument though, thanks to the fish at her friends' paws.

"True," Owltail commented. "But the lake's not down more than a whiskerlength." He threw her a look and decided, "Something's on your mind."

Starlingthorn froze, stunned that they knew her so well.

"Come on," Owltail urged. "I talked about my drama – your turn."

Starlingthorn looked to Applenose for some help, but the dark-pelted she-cat was only nodding in encouragement, her eyes sparkling. Finding nowhere to turn, Starlingthorn sighed.

"Very well," she breathed. "I've been thinking about the stranger."

"We all have," Applenose agreed. "That's nothing new."

Starlingthorn shook her head. "You don't understand," she insisted. _How do I tell them I might know who the stranger is?_ She trusted her friends, but she had to keep them at a tail-length, thanks to her true intentions. Letting them know might be disastrous. "I want to look for them."

"Then let's look," Owltail decided.

Starlingthorn's ears pricked, shocked at his dismissiveness. "But Hawkstar said -"

"To catch prey," Owltail finished. "Yeah, and we _did_ that. The fish will keep if we get back here by evening – we can just take a quick look around and see if we can find them, then come back and bring in our prey." He smirked, and added, _"You_ might even catch something on the way."

Starlingthorn frowned, resisting the urge to swat him. But instead she meowed, "Thanks. Let's go."

The three hid their prey well in a bed of reeds, covering it with moss in order to detour herons from getting an easy meal. Then, they set off away from the lake, up the slope and into the short green grasses. They continued heading away from the lake until they reached the outskirts of TigerClan territory, where a stranger might hide.

Here was a single Twoleg nest, big and ornate. Starlingthorn recalled seeing such nests during her time as a kittypet, seasons ago. They were usually home to Twolegs who dressed in shiny pelts and drove large, yet quiet, monsters. They also usually had the nicest yards with plenty of smelly flowers – this one had a short fence with lots of bushes and foliage inside.

The Clan cats were hesitant to get too close. Starlingthorn gave a cautious sniff, smelling Twolegs and, prominently, catmint. This nest was where Mothwing and Willowshine got their catmint for greencough, since the supply was well-stocked almost all year around. Starlingthorn had come here once or twice to help Mothwing restock, during the time when she was still technically a prisoner.

"Why are we here?" groaned Applenose. Her hackles were bristling. "It's bad enough this nest is near our camp – we don't need to get so close!"

 _Because if this cat is who I think they are, they won't be able to resist the smell of catmint,_ Starlingthorn thought. To the others, she mewed, "It couldn't hurt to look around. Catmint is a good lure for loners and rogues."

"And kittypets," grumbled Owltail.

Starlingthorn ignored that remark and sniffed at the low fence. Owltail and Applenose split up, each taking sides opposite Starlingthorn, but staying within sight of one another. All three were conscious of the fact that this Twoleg had a dog, and that it might be out at any time.

Just when Starlingthorn was about to call their search a failure, Applenose called, "I've got something!"

Owltail and Starlingthorn headed for Applenose, who was crouched beside a fence post. The catmint grew wild near here, its smell cloying in the air. Applenose pointed at the fence post and commented, "It was hard to tell, but there's a strange scent here."

Starlingthorn stepped forward and breathed it in. Applenose was right – it _was_ hard to identify, but not for a cat who knew the scent. Starlingthorn closed her jaws and nodded to affirm, "It's the stranger all right."

"Which way did they go?" Owltail wondered.

Starlingthorn sniffed again, following the scent trail as it pulled away from the fence. It was fresh and easy to spot. Starlingthorn lifted her muzzle from the grass and nodded towards the distant pines. "That way," she mewed.

"Then let's go," Applenose purred. She was looking excited. "Imagine how the Clan will feel if _we_ catch the stranger?"

 _Yes,_ Starlingthorn thought. Her paws were itching to get going. _I'd rather we find them than TigerClan…_

The three set off at a brisk pace, following the fresh scent down from the Twoleg home, along the bushes that ringed TigerClan's lowland territory, and into the pine woods that had once been ShadowClan's home. Pine needles softened their pawsteps as they entered the woods, and the scent led unwaveringly to a tall pine.

And then it stopped.

Starlingthorn stared at the base of the tree. "It stops here," she reported.

"Here?" Applenose wondered. "Why?"

Owltail's hackles rose. "Keep an eye out," he growled. "They could be anywhere, and if they catch us by surprise…"

Starlingthorn nodded in agreement. The patrol that had found her nearly two moons ago had outnumbered her, but with the element of surprise on her side she'd managed to hold her ground for some time. Starlingthorn had managed to injure an apprentice before she was detained.

The woods were quiet, and Owltail and Applenose opened their jaws to try and catch the scent again. Starlingthorn frowned.

 _I know you,_ she thought. Smelling the scent had brought up old memories, and suspicions. _You're smart, but not_ that _smart…_

 _Where are you?_

Suddenly the pines rustled up above. All three cats froze, eyes wide. There was a screech, and suddenly the ground was rushing up to meet Starlingthorn's face. She slammed into the earth, feeling a great weight push her down and claws dug into her dark, dappled pelt.

"Gotcha!" proclaimed her attacker.

 _I know that voice!_ Starlingthorn realized.

She twisted beneath her attacker and gave them a swat, throwing them off of her. Starlingthorn got to her paws only to find that her attacker had rolled with the hit and was on her paws a second sooner. Starlingthorn got into a defensive stance, only to realize that her opponent had done the same.

The two cats circled one another, and Starlingthorn realized that this cat was copying her style - the way she was crouched, how she moved her paws, everything down to near-exact detail.

Starlingthorn straightened her spine and stood. She blinked at her attacker and twitched her whiskers when they looked confused.

"Only one cat I know copies me like that," Starlingthorn declared. Owltail and Applenose both made noises of confusion behind her, but Starlingthorn raised her tail to signal that all was well.

"Lark," Starlingthorn announced. "It's been a while."

Lark sat up as well, her eyes glowing with friendly warmth and recognition. She padded forward and rubbed her muzzle against Starlingthorn's.

"Starling," she purred, pulling away. "How've you been, yeah? You smell funny."


	8. Chapter 6

**Sorry for the wait!**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

" _You smell funny," Lark repeated,_ wrinkling her narrow muzzle. "What've you been rolling in?"

Starlingthorn stared at her old friend. Lark was smaller and leaner than Starlingthorn, her pelt sticking up in places from their tussle. Sunlight shone down on her light brown tabby coat, her distinctive stripes and scent bringing back memories in Starlingthorn's mind of a broken roof, a hay-strewn floor, and evenings playing together in the half-light.

"And who are these two?" Lark wondered, glancing at Owltail and Applenose. "Friends of yours, yeah?"

"Yes," Starlingthorn agreed. _I haven't heard that accent in a while,_ she thought. It was almost jarring how different Lark sounded to her compared to the rusty mews of the Clan cats. "These are Owltail and Applenose, my Clanmates."

Lark's eyes widened. Starlingthorn took a step towards Lark and asked, "What are you doing here, Lark? It's dangerous in these parts. Not every cat knows who you are like I do, and if some other cat had found you…"

"Dangerous?" Lark interrupted, her eyes flashing. "It wasn't that dangerous. Didn't mean to run into the fox, no, but that was a fluke, yeah? When I scented you around here I wasn't sure, but I had to see if you were really living in this place."

"Who _is_ this cat?" Owltail demanded, lashing his tail. "Starlingthorn, explain!"

" 'Starlingthorn'?" Lark repeated, tipping her head. "That's what they call you? Funny name like theirs, yeah?"

"Yes," Starlingthorn replied, feeling uncomfortable. "My name is Starlingthorn here." She could feel the judging eyes of Owltail and Applenose on her – though they were her friends, she had a feeling they might not hesitate when it came to reporting disloyalty in the Clan's resident former loner.

"You can't stay here," Starlingthorn insisted. "This is TigerClan territory." It was clear that meant little to Lark, who only tipped her head again at the name. Sighing, Starlingthorn asked again, "Why are you here, Lark? Is everything all right back home?"

Lark suddenly lost her chipper demeanor. Her eyes turned somber, and she scuffed a paw against the earth. She murmured, "Things are different. They got different fast."

Starlingthorn narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Different?" she wondered. "Lark, different _how?"_

Lark looked up at her, eyes full of misery. She meowed, "Magpie is dying."

Starlingthorn froze, stunned. All sound and scent and feeling was vacuumed out of the world, and it felt like Starlingthorn's legs were going to give out from beneath her.

 _Magpie…_ she thought, feeling as if she were gasping for breath.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but…"

Applenose's voice brought Starlingthorn out of the void.

She asked, "Who is Magpie?"

* * *

"Starlingthorn, I _demand_ an explanation!"

Hawkstar's ice-blue eyes blazed with fury, glaring at Lark as if she were a fox or badger suddenly brought into his den. His neck fur was bristling, and his claws were unsheathed. He made no effort to hide his displeasure.

"Who is this stranger, and _what_ are they doing on TigerClan land?" Hawkstar demanded.

Starlingthorn sighed. She had brought Lark immediately to Hawkstar, telling Owltail and Applenose not to say much other than they'd found the stranger. It was cooler in the hollowed willow than it was outside, but Starlingthorn sensed that Hawkstar's anger would be warming the room up in no time.

"Please, Hawkstar," Starlingthorn offered. "Calm down. Lark poses no danger to us."

"Oh?" Hawkstar wondered skeptically, a lip curled.

"Yes," Starlingthorn insisted. "She came here to deliver an important message to me."

Hawkstar's eyes widened. "You _know_ each other?" he asked.

Starlingthorn nodded. Lark was nodding, too, but she seemed to understand that she needed to keep her mouth shut.

Hawkstar's neck fur lay flat. He blinked and admitted, "For a moment I'd forgotten you were a loner before you came here…"

"That's all right," Starlingthorn soothed.

"Then what is the meaning of this?" Hawkstar wondered, eyes flashing. "What is this message?"

Starlingthorn took a deep breath. "The message won't make much sense unless I explain a few other things to you. Is that all right?"

Hawkstar nodded. "Go on," he invited.

Starlingthorn took another deep breath. Before her eyes flashed her whole life, all in a brief moment. She collected her thoughts and exhaled.

"When I left my Twolegs," Starlingthorn meowed, "I wasn't on my own for too long. I ran into a group of cats who'd made their home in an abandoned barn just outside of a Twolegplace. It was storming and I needed shelter; they were kind enough to give it to me.

"Their leader was a cat named Magpie. When I told him what had happened to me, he offered me a place with him and his and I accepted, as I had nowhere else to go. Mapgie trained me in my fighting style, and taught me to hunt and fend for myself. He was – is – like a father to me."

Starlingthorn paused. The gravity of the thought that Magpie might not be there when she got back weighed down on her, squashing her words. Lark picked up her story:

"When Starlingthorn left us, Magpie was ill, yeah?" she mewed. "He's old. Tired. S'what happens. But he's been declining, yeah, and I thought Starling ought to know so she can see him before he dies."

"Now?" Hawkstar wondered.

"Now's the only time we got," Lark pointed out.

Hawkstar turned to Starlingthorn. "How long would this trip take?" he asked.

Starlingthorn lifted her head, but it was Lark who replied: "About a moon."

Hawkstar narrowed his eyes at Lark. He shook his head and grumbled, "I can't let you go away – not for a whole moon! Not all alone!"

"Why not?" Lark wondered. She looked between Hawkstar, whose eyes suddenly turned worried, and Starlingthon. Her striped tail flicked, and then she muttered, "Oh."

Lark sighed and offered, "Starling and I have been friends since I was kitted, yeah? She -"

"I need to see Magpie before he dies," Starlingthorn insisted, cutting off Lark. She threw Hawkstar the most plaintive, begging look she could muster. "I owe him so much… and I could never forgive myself if I wasn't there."

Hawkstar frowned. He was silent for a moment before saying, "I shall call in Rowanclaw and Russetfur, and we will discuss this." He glanced at Lark. "She may stay until then. The warrior's den is open for her, but make sure she doesn't cause trouble."

"I won't!" Lark chimed, eyes glimmering. "You won't even know I'm here, yeah?"

Starlingthorn dipped her head to Hawkstar. She then turned and nudged Lark out of the den and into the camp.

Lark took a deep breath of the air. "Yikes!" she chirped. "Was real warm in there!"

Starlingthorn nodded. The closed-in walls kept the place cool, but after a while it got stifling. _Especially with Hawkstar glowering at you._ The heat of the day almost seemed cooler in comparison now that the sun was going down.

"They don't like me, yeah?" Lark guessed. She waved her tail around the camp, at all the cats staring at her. Starlingthorn could just hear their muttering.

"No, they don't," Starlingthorn answered. She nudged Lark towards the warrior's den and insisted, "Just ignore them. They won't cause any trouble while you're with me."

Lark nodded in agreement and the two stuck close as they padded to the warrior's den. Starlingthorn figured Lark must be tired from her trip – but more pressing were other thoughts. Lark was here, and Magpie was dying – what did it mean? How would it affect her mission? There was a risk of everything blowing right open!

When they reached the den, Lark stopped Starlingthorn. Concern in her eyes, she asked quietly, "Starling… what are you doing here? Why did you leave us?"

Starlingthorn's eyes widened. She'd expected these questions, but not was really neither the time nor place. She insisted, "Too many ears here, Lark."

"We're pretty alone," Lark commented, looking around. "No one here, yeah? Just onlookers, and they can't hear us."

Starlingthorn shook her head. She thought of Ashfur, and how mysteriously the tom worked. "There are always open ears," she insisted, "especially where you think there aren't."

Lark looked confused.

"Please," Starlingthorn insisted. She brushed her muzzle against Lark's. In her ear, Starlingthorn whispered, "Things here aren't what they seem. For your safety, don't question too much too loudly."

Lark let out a grunt of understanding. Starlingthorn pulled away. She led Lark into the warrior's den, where it was cooler. The den was empty, and Starlingthorn picked her way over to her nest just on the outskirts. She pawed at the moss.

"There's some spare moss here," Starlingthorn told her. "Should be comfortable enough for tonight."

Lark nodded and began scraping together a nest. Starlingthorn watched her work, fluffing the moss into a suitable sleeping spot. The nest was pushed right up next to Starlingthorn's, whose nest was already a pace away from everyone else. Lark circled and settled down with her paws tucked under her.

"I'm sorry," Starlingthorn blurted. Lark looked up at her. "I'm sorry for going away without saying anything. For not being around."

Lark's eyes sparkled with sympathy. "I understand, Starling," she meowed. "It's all right, yeah?"

Starlingthorn shifted on her paws. "Does… Does Fletch understand?" she wondered.

Lark stiffened. She looked away, concern flashing in her eyes. A bolt of fear raced through Starlingthorn as Lark replied, "Things are different, Starling. Different."

Starlingthorn's mouth went dry, but she knew better than to ask. Lark understood the need for secrecy. Starlingthorn settled down beside Lark, their fur pressing together like it did during their training. Starlingthorn had missed that sense of companionship, the one she shared with Lark.

Placing her head on his paws, Starlingthorn stared up and out at the setting sun. The sky was orange-red, with streaks of purple and blue from the leftover day. She sighed.

 _Things are different, Lark says,_ Starlingthorn thought. She thought of her old home. _How different can they be? I won't be around long enough to fix the problems, if Hawkstar lets me go at all._

She shivered. _Please… let them all be all right…_


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

" _Dustpelt, is it your wish_ to give up the name of a warrior and go to join the elders?"

"It's not really my wish," Dustpelt replied with a tired rasp, "but my back isn't going to heal anytime soon, or anytime later."

Lionpaw couldn't get over just how sorrowful Bramblestar looked. Dustpelt was a warrior before Bramblestar had even been kitted – he'd seen so much, done so much, and even with his prickly temper he had been a legendary warrior. Now it was Bramblestar's duty to put him into the elder's den, all because TigerClan cats thought it was funny to pile onto his back until the dark tabby couldn't move.

Bramblestar looked down at Dustpelt with affection and sorrow. "Your Clan honors you, Dustpelt – we all do. I call upon StarClan to give you many moons of rest."

Dustpelt nodded. Ferncloud stepped out of the crowd and touched noses with her mate, her green eyes full of sadness… and a little bit of relief, too. Lionpaw figured that she must be happy he wouldn't be seeing any more fighting. Ferncloud led Dustpelt back into the crowd, standing by him as his support as she had always done.

"The Clan will miss your skill," Bramblestar commented.

"My skill is still around," Dustpelt commented as he lay down. Ferncloud began lapping at his pelt. Dustpelt rasped, "It'll always be around."

Bramblestar nodded at that. Onestar stepped forward next to make his announcement: "The fox has been successfully driven out of our territory, and the stranger's scent has not returned. The permanent moorland group is stationed now and while we aren't entirely sure how things are going to work, their presence in the moorland is necessary."

"I'm glad we're not out there," Spottedpaw murmured from beside Lionpaw. His sister was shifting on her paws nervously. "I'll miss Harepaw and Poppypaw, though."

Lionpaw nodded. "Me too," he agreed. Harepaw and Poppypaw, their mentors Tornear and Thornclaw, and Owlwhisker and Hazeltail had been chosen to go to the moors. Lionpaw was grateful that Bramblestar and Onestar's choices had skirted his and Spottedpaw's friends and didn't separate them either. Lionpaw had worried endlessly when Spottedpaw had been chosen for the moorland before, but now that they had discovered their powers they needed to stick as close together as possible.

"Patrols will go and come from the moorland every other day," Onestar went on, "delivering reports and other supplies as necessary. The camp has fallen into disrepair, and the marshland border needs almost constant surveillance in case TigerClan decides to make a move. The moorland camp is all that is keeping them from stealing more territory."

"Is that really so likely, though?" asked Graystripe. "It took all our energy to patrol our whole territory without the moorland group. Would TigerClan really want to extend themselves that far?"

"Unfortunately, it's likely," Bramblestar pointed out. "This heat wave is making prey scarce in open areas, and the lake is down three paces. If it continues, land prey will die in the heat and the fish will be near-impossible to get."

"What about our own prey?" wondered Crowfeather. The black tom was settled near the edge of the crowd, where he seemed to prefer being. "The heat wave is going to affect us, too."

Onestar meowed, "I won't last forever. A storm will break soon and the temperatures will return to normal – until then, our territory will sustain us. If not, rationing will have to occur. Until then, however, we will continue as normal."

The Clan murmured uncertainly, and Lionpaw's tail flicked with worry. What if the heat wave _didn't_ end? What if prey died for both Clans? What would happen then?

"This meeting is over," Onestar decided. He turned around and padded back into the Highledge den. Bramblestar padded down the stones as the meeting began breaking up. He approached Dustpelt and Ferncloud and began talking quietly to them. A few other warriors did the same, ones who knew Dustpelt well.

Lionpaw watched them, feeling sorry for those warriors. Their friend and Clanmate was going off to the elder's den far, far too soon. Sandstorm had already lost her mate, and now she was losing her best friend to TigerClan, too. Even Graystripe seemed too serious about it all. It was strange.

"Spottedpaw!"

Lionpaw's ears pricked as his sister got to her paws. Brightheart approached, Sorreltail trailing just behind.

"Yes?" Spottedpaw asked.

"We're going for some battle training with Honeypaw," Brightheart instructed. "Come on."

Spottedpaw nodded. She looked to Lionpaw and mewed, "See you later!" before heading out with Brightheart.

Lionpaw looked to Sorreltail. "What're we doing?" he asked. It was early in the day, and he was eager to shake off the sorrow of the meeting.

"Hunting," Sorreltail answered. "Whitetail and Breezepaw are going out so I figured we could join them. With one more cat in the elder's den we've a lot more hunting to do. I hear Dustpelt likes squirrel."

 _Squirrel?_ Lionpaw thought. _Prickly, like him. I suppose it makes sense._

"Let's go, then," Lionpaw offered. He bounced onto his paws. "I'm ready!"

"Obviously," Sorreltail commented, her eyes sparkling. "Wait here; I'll get Whitetail."

* * *

Out in the woods it was warm, but cooler than in camp. So many bodies so close together amplified the heat – but out here it was roomy and airy, with plenty of space to breathe. Lionpaw and Breezepaw trotted side by side, padding behind their mentors. Whitetail and Sorreltail were discussing the best place to hunt ahead, but Lionpaw wasn't worried about where – he just wanted to sink his jaws into some prey.

"You're twitching like a kit on their first hunt!" Breezepaw chided, his eyes sparkling.

"Am not!" Lionpaw hissed back.

"Are too!" Breezepaw chuckled. "Look at you, all puffed up!" He leaned in and hissed challengingly, "I'll bet you can't even catch a mouse!"

Lionpaw's fur bristled. "I've caught plenty of mice!" he threw back, abashed.

Breezepaw twitched his whiskers and chuckled, "Then let's make a wager of it – if you catch more than me, you get to pick from the fresh-kill pile first!"

"You're on!"

"Will you two be quiet?!" hissed Sorreltail.

Lionpaw and Breezepaw both clamped their jaws shut as Whitetail and Sorreltail turned their eyes upon their apprentices. The two she-cats were looking less than happy about their chatty students.

"Sorry," Breezepaw managed. Recovering, he asked, "Where are we hunting?"

Lionpaw took a deep breath, admiring his brother and how easily he came away from being shocked by Whitetail. Lionpaw could never seem to shake off when Sorreltail scolded him – not for a while, anyway.

Whitetail answered, "We're thinking by the Twoleg path. How's that sound?"

"Great!" Lionpaw squeaked. "No one's hunted around there for a few days."

Sorreltail nodded. "So there's bound to be plenty," she meowed. "However, what else do we look out for near there?"

"Twolegs," Breezepaw answered quickly. He narrowed his eyes and added, "And TigerClan."

"Yes," Sorreltail agreed. Gravely, she meowed, "So we don't go fooling around, all right?"

"Yes," the two apprentices answered in unison.

Sorreltail and Whitetail turned around and began leading the way towards the Twoleg path. Breezepaw nudged Lionpaw and hissed, "I'll still catch more than you!" before loping off to join his mentor.

"You cheek!" Lionpaw snapped back. He chased after Breezepaw, paws thudding against the ground.

 _You won't win!_ He thought determinedly.

* * *

"I won!" Breezepaw crowed.

Lionpaw sighed, looking down at his paws. Two mice lay there, between his big, soft white paws. A squirrel, mouse, and shrew lay between Breezepaw's paws. A worthy catch, won by Breezepaw's speed and better skill. Lionpaw had come close to catching a vole just before the end, but it'd gotten away from him.

Breezepaw was pacing around his prey, tail and head high. "I'm the best!" he crowed. "The best!"

"Oh, stop it!" Lionpaw scoffed. He knew Breezepaw was just putting on a show.

Cicadas buzzed all around as Breezepaw as he mewed, "Wait till our mentors see this!"

Lionpaw rolled his eyes. Whitetail and Sorreltail were around, watching from a distance while hunting themselves. _All they'll see is you being a mouse-brain,_ Lionpaw thought bitterly. _They don't even know about our stupid contest!_

"I wonder what I'll pick?" Breezepaw wondered. He stopped to look down at his pile. "A vole? No… mouse? Rabbit? Hmmm…"

Lionpaw sighed.

"I think I'll pick… thrush."

Lionpaw's neck fur ruffled. "You _wouldn't!"_ he hissed. Thrush was _his_ favorite!

Breezepaw's eyes flashed. He had gotten a reaction from Lionpaw, and he was amused by it. He sat beside his pile and mewed, chin high, "Yes – thrush is what I'll pick! I'll plant it right between my paws and take off each feather, one by one! Then, I'll…"

Lionpaw let out a roar before leaping. He pushed Breezepaw down with sheathed paws and pinned him there. He thrust his muzzle into his brother's face and growled, "Shut up!"

Breezepaw was stunned, but he chuckled, "It'll be delicious!"

The black tom surged up and slapped Lionpaw's face with his paws. Lionpaw backed off, and Breezepaw tackled him down. Claws sheathed, the two growled and tussled, rolling around the area and flattening ferns. Their growls turned to chuckles and laughter as they rolled through the trees, bounding and slapping at one another in a friendly match.

They tussled past the Twoleg path, chasing one another in a makeshift race. The foliage began changing beneath their paws, but neither of them noticed through their fun.

Lionpaw felt a rush of energy as he overtook Breezepaw. The two let out a yelp as they plunged down a slope, tangled in each other's paws and legs. They rolled and tumbled down and down until the ground leveled out and they lay at the base of the slope, panting.

"Lionpaw!" shouted a voice. "Breezepaw!"

The two apprentices looked up, spying Sorreltail and Whitetail at the top of the slope. The queens bounded down to meet them, and Lionpaw flinched when he saw anger in their eyes.

"What are you two _doing?"_ hissed Whitetail, her fur bristling.

"We were just -" Lionpaw began.

Sorreltail didn't let him finish: "You were just _rolling right into the TigerClan border!"_

Lionpaw and Breezepaw both gave a start, the fun and energy draining from them instantly. They both got to their paws as quick as they could, backing up the slope with wide eyes. Neither of them had noticed that the scents had changed, and the border was just a few pawsteps away.

"What do you think would have happened if you'd gone over the border?" Sorreltail wondered. Her tail was fluffed, lashing. "What if TigerClan had caught you – or worse, used your scents on their territory to attack us?"

Lionpaw flattened himself with guilt. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Me too," Breezepaw sighed. His eyes were hard, rigid like stone. "We weren't watching where we were going. It won't happen again."

Whitetail snorted. "What would you have done, Breezepaw? Tell me!" she wondered.

Breezepaw replied coldly, "I would have killed any TigerClan cat who tried to attack us!"

Whitetail snarled, "It's more likely they would have killed you for your foolishness! Is this worth losing your life over?"

Breezepaw flattened his ears. "No."

"Lionpaw?" Sorreltail wondered.

Lionpaw swallowed, his throat dry. "N-No," he stammered.

"You two are on elder's duties for the rest of the day," Whitetail declared. "Pick up your prey. We're heading back to camp. Now."

She turned around and headed up the slope. Sorreltail sighed, shaking her head as she followed. Lionpaw looked up at them in desperation. They had just been having some fun! What was so wrong about that?

"Come on," Breezepaw meowed. "Let's go before they yell at us more."

Lionpaw trembled as he followed his brother up the hill. "W-We were just playing," he breathed. He thought of the attack, of the border looming behind him. He recalled what Spottedpaw said about the kits. "Won't we ever have a chance to be young?"

Breezepaw turned his head to look at Lionpaw. His eyes were hard, framed by his angled, night-black face. "There's no time to be young with TigerClan around."

Lionpaw was stunned by how harsh Breezepaw sounded, after just playing with him not a moment ago. The very reminder of TigerClan had sucked the life and fun from him, like the ground sucked at water. _You're not much older than me!_ Lionpaw wanted to wail. _I've only been an apprentice for a moon!_

Yet, as they trudged up the hill, it dawned on Lionpaw. There was no time for being a kit anymore, not even for kits. TigerClan had proven they could – and would – attack at any time, and show no mercy.

 _He's right,_ Lionpaw thought sullenly. _He's right._

* * *

Spottedpaw grasped a squirrel in her jaws and headed for the apprentice's eating spot. Honeypaw followed, a sparrow in her mouth. Both of them were exhausted, dusty and tired from their battle practice – Honeypaw more than Spottedpaw. Though Spottedpaw was proud, she was worried that perhaps she had relied too much on using her strange power to get the upper paw in the training. Brightheart didn't seem to notice, though, and it only made Honeypaw work harder. Wasn't that a good thing?

Breezepaw and Lionpaw were stretched out, sharing tongues. Their meal was in tattered remains before them, and both looked unhappy. Spottedpaw saw moss snagged between their claws, and she flicked her tail.

When she set her squirrel down she asked, "What happened to you two? I thought you were hunting."

"We were," complained Breezepaw. "Then we got sent to clean out the elder's den."

"And look for _ticks!"_ Lionpaw moaned. "Ugh…"

Spottedpaw glanced at Honeypaw. "What happened?" Honeypaw wondered. The two she-cats settled near one another.

Lionpaw explained as Spottedpaw chewed on the squirrel. Lionpaw described their hunting contest, and then how they'd gotten into a little tussle over it. Breezepaw, of course, tried to make it out like it hadn't been a big deal – but Lionpaw told the she-cats that they'd nearly crossed the TigerClan border, and that Whitetail and Sorreltail had punished them for being foolish.

"I don't get why they were worried," Breezepaw complained. His neck fur was bristling. "We could have handled anyone that came our way!"

Honeypaw was nodding. "I know," she meowed. "You two are, like, the best fighters in the den!"

Spottedpaw bristled. "You've all seen how TigerClan fights!" she meowed, worried. "They don't care if you're the best fighter in the den – they nearly killed Poppypaw, and they broke Cinderpaw's leg! They'd do the same to any of us!" Didn't they see that TigerClan was dangerous?

Honeypaw's eyes narrowed. She growled, "Any TigerClan cat who touches Poppypaw or Cinderpaw again will see StarClan – or wherever it is that those evil cats go."

"Yeah," growled Breezepaw. Spottedpaw saw his claws digging into the turf. "They killed Brackenfur and Morningflower and _Barkface._ They don't deserve to live!"

Spottedpaw flattened her ears against her head, appalled at how Honeypaw and Breezepaw both looked ready to fight. Her throat went dry, and she inched away from them.

 _Yes they did all that,_ she thought, _but who can say whether they really wanted to? Hawkstar is the one pulling their tails!_ She remembered the dark TigerClan she-cat and how Blackclaw had nearly killed her for some reason – clearly there was some sort of hold over the warriors! Killing all of them couldn't be the answer, could it?

Spottedpaw looked to Lionpaw, hoping and praying that he wasn't feeling nearly as hostile as their denmates.

To her shock she saw Lionpaw nodding along – in uncertainty, yes, but _nodding along_ anyway.

Spottedpaw's heart plummeted. She had seen her brother covered in the blood of his enemies, but that didn't scare her half as much as the possibility that he agreed that all of TigerClan had to die.


	10. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

" _Cats of TigerClan!"_

Starlingthon looked up at Hawkstar as he made the announcement. The Clan was already gathered under his ice-blue gaze, but Hawkstar had waited until he had their full attention before beginning to speak. Lark sat beside Starlingthorn, calm despite the eyes on her.

"As you are all aware, we were visited by a stranger," Hawkstar meowed. "This stranger's name is Lark, and is a friend of Starlingthorn's."

"Of course," grunted a warrior in the back. "Loners stick together."

"Is Hawkstar going to fill our Clan with loners now?" wondered another cat. "Isn't one enough?"

Hawkstar ignored them: "Lark has come a long way to visit Starlingthorn, and the two must go back to where Lark came from in order to finish a task."

More growling came from the unhappy majority: "You're trusting a loner to take one of our warriors?" Oakfur meowed. "And what if neither of them come back? What if it's a trap?"

"Buncha loons, yeah?" Lark whispered to Starlingthorn.

Starlingthorn said nothing. She fidgeted on her paws as the Clan's protests grew louder – Starlingthorn was happy that she'd be able to go, but the Clan was clearly going to start a riot about her loyalty because of it.

"They _will_ return," Hawkstar insisted, "one way or another."

The Clan grew quiet.

Hawkstar went on, his face stern, "They will not be going alone – Ashfur and Owltail will accompany them, and ensure that the trip is safe and that Starlingthorn will come back."

Starlingthorn swallowed. Lark fidgeted next to her, the tabby's tail twitching. At the edge of the crowd Starlingthorn could see Ashfur, sitting alone like a pale shadow cast from nothing. Owltail was somewhere in the crowd, and from his sound of confusion Starlingthorn guessed that he hadn't known he'd been chosen to go.

"At least you get to go," Lark mewed. "Even if we have a dumb escort."

"Yeah," Starlingthorn breathed.

Hawkstar's nod signaled the end of the meeting. The Clan broke up into unhappy groups, each one gathering together to gossip about Starlingthorn's journey. Lark and Starlingthorn remained together as Hawkstar approached. Ashfur and Owltail were behind him.

"I'm sorry," Hawkstar offered quietly, touching his nose to Starlingthorn's. "I knew the Clan wouldn't be happy about your trip if I didn't give them some reassurance that you wouldn't betray us or run off."

"I know," Starlingthorn offered, "but we don't need an escort."

Hawkstar's eyes were hard. "Yes, you do," he meowed. "I have no idea what's out there, and you're one of our best warriors. I won't be losing you."

Starlingthorn fidgeted. _But Ashfur?_ The cat who knew that Starlingthorn's loyalties didn't lie with TigerClan? The cat who threatened to kill her if he should fancy it? What if he took the opportunity to attack her while they were gone? All Ashfur would have to say was that some beast had attacked their party. Owltail and Lark wouldn't be able to stop him.

Hawkstar rubbed his muzzle against Starlingthorn's. "Be careful," he murmured.

"I will," she promised. It was taking every ounce of strength she had to not tremble.

Hawkstar pulled away and flicked his tail. Ashfur padded over to him, and the two began to talk quietly. Owltail padded towards the she-cats, ignoring them.

"A trip, eh?" Owltail sighed. "Wish I was told beforehand."

"I'm sorry," Starlingthorn offered.

"It's all right," Owltail grunted. He glanced at Lark, clearly wary of the loner. He asked, "How long will we be gone?"

"A moon," Starlingthorn replied. "It takes about a quarter-moon to get there and back, so I'll have a half moon left to do what it is I need to do."

Lark was nodding. "We'll be back in a rabbit hop, yeah?"

Owltail looked put-off, but he wasn't complaining. Starlingthorn glanced up, sighting Hawkstar and Ashfur parting. The toms approached again.

"Good luck," Hawkstar offered.

"We'll see you in a moon," Starlingthorn told him.

Hawkstar nodded, and then turned away. Starlingthorn sighed, knowing that he would be worried the entire time she was gone. She swallowed.

Lark nudged her. "Come on," she meowed. "We'd better start heading out."

Starlingthorn nodded. She turned away and, with Lark in the lead, set her paws towards an old home.

* * *

Squirrelflight watched the dark she-cat head out of the reed-and-bramble tunnel and out of the camp. From her place in the willow den, her prison, she had heard why Starlingthorn was leaving. Squirrelflight's leg hurt too much to come out and see the meeting herself – she was stuck in this stifling den.

She wasn't all alone, though – Willowshine was there, patting herbs together to wrap around Squirrelflight's injured leg. The herbs would take away the ache and help the muscle heal, the muscle that had suffered the wrath of angry TigerClan warriors who had been sore from their loss.

 _Starlingthorn stopped them then, too,_ Squirrelflight recalled. Her former denmate's dark shape, her eyes glowing with anger, had appeared and chastised the warriors who had been attacking Squirrelflight. To everyone's shock, Hawkstar had appeared behind Starlingthorn and forced the warriors to quit.

Squirrelflight had been so stunned that Hawkstar had been on Starlingthorn's side – though it was obvious to her that Hawkstar was infatuated with the loner-turned-warrior, Squirrelflight had never thought he would act on his feelings. It seemed too… _normal_ for him.

 _It's softened him, though,_ Squirrelflight realized. Little by little, Starlingthorn _was_ softening Hawkstar. He was listening to her, and in turn he was listening to others. It didn't excuse a single thing Hawkstar had done, but perhaps it was a start to a better TigerClan?

So when it was announced that Starlingthorn would be leaving, worry formed a pit in Squirrelflight's stomach. What would happen now that she was gone? Though they hadn't any opportunity to speak since Starlingthorn had become a warrior, it was clear that there were no bad feelings on the loner's end. She still cared for Squirrelflight – why else would she risk herself for the prisoner's safety?

 _She abandoned you,_ hissed a voice inside. _Why forgive her?_

Squirrelflight shook it away and sighed. The voices of her isolation were nagging and annoying, and she wished they would go away.

"Why do you care?" Willowshine wondered.

Squirrelflight flicked an ear. Willowshine adjusted herself in the muggy gloom and pushed a soggy ball of moss towards Squirrelflight's muzzle. Squirrelflight began to drink as Willowshine went on: "She's Hawkstar's mate now; there's no point in thinking that you two are still friends."

Throat still dry, Squirrelflight meowed, "You're wrong." The image of Bramblestar flashed before her – the dark tabby tom she loved was standing before her, telling her that Hawkstar – Hawk _frost_ – wasn't so bad. If he'd only known! "Mates don't need to share the same point of view."

Squirrelflight tensed as Willowshine pressed the herbs against her leg. When the pain faded, she meowed, "Starlingthorn is here for a reason, Willowshine. I can _feel_ it."

"I haven't seen anything from StarClan about her," Willowshine meowed pointedly. "I haven't had a StarClan cat in my dreams since Hawkstar took over. It's all been dark, you know that."

Squirrelflight meowed hotly, "StarClan _must_ have sent her!" There was something hopeful about the dark she-cat, and hope was something Squirrelflight hadn't felt or found in what felt like an eternity.

Willowshine's tail flicked. "Well, StarClan just sent her away."

The pale gray she-cat turned away and gathered her herbs before leaving the den. Squirrelflight pressed her nose into the wet moss and sighed. Curling up in her stale bedding, Squirrelflight knew Willowshine was right – Starlingthorn was gone, for now.

 _She'll come back,_ Squirrelflight thought. Determination filled her limbs as she recalled her own journey. _Good luck._

* * *

"Stormfur is beside her now," Kestrelpaw meowed. "He's helping Cinderpaw get her balance in the water. He's telling her how to use her tail."

"Be careful!" Leafpool meowed concernedly, amid the splashing.

"We will," Stormfur insisted.

Robinpaw shifted on his paws. Though the world was hot, the air beside the lake was less so. The water lapped at the shore, and occasionally a slight breeze stirred the air. Kestrelpaw sat beside him on the shore, and together they were observing Robinpaw's idea being put into fruition.

"Stormfur is leading her further into the water," Kestrelpaw went on. "Cinderpaw… she's floating now, I think."

"Does it hurt?" Leafpool wondered.

"A little," Cinderpaw replied. "But… it's really nice!"

"Keep your chin up," Stormfur told her. "Don't talk if you don't have to – that way water won't get in your mouth."

More splashing. Kestrelpaw went on: "They're swimming a little now – just in circles. I think Stormfur is still on the shore, but wow is he a natural! Cinderpaw looks scared, but -"

Robinpaw frowned. Kestrelpaw had gone abruptly silent, and now all Robinpaw could hear was splashing. Robinpaw looked to the other apprentice and wondered, "Why'd you stop?"

"I-I'm sorry," Kestrelpaw sputtered. "I know you don't like it when things are told to you like that. I went overboard…"

"No you didn't," Robinpaw told him. With a flick of his tail against Kestrelpaw's flank, Robinpaw went on, "I'm blind. Going into water for me would be really dangerous. Even though this was my idea, I knew I wouldn't be able to do it with her. I'm happy to have you explain things to me."

 _Well, it was sort of my idea,_ Robinpaw thought after the fact. Starlingthorn had told him to get Cinderpaw to swim, and Robinpaw had just relayed the information. With his suspicions about Starlingthon, Robinpaw knew he would never be able to do anything but lie about where the thought had sprung from.

Kestrelpaw seemed confused for a moment, his heart fluttering in Robinpaw's ear fur. Then, the young cat meowed, relieved, "Thanks."

Robinpaw tipped an ear questioningly.

"It's nice to feel useful," Kestrelpaw admitted. "Without Barkface, I feel so lost… even in medicine cat duties, I feel like Leafpool is coddling me because of Barkface's death. I respect Leafpool, but she's not Barkface and I…" His voice caught. "I miss him."

Robinpaw felt sympathy in his heart. Onestar might have been Kestrelpaw's father, but Barkface was the cat who obviously seemed more like a father to him than anyone. Kestrelpaw had spent almost all his life with Barkface, learning the secrets of the medicine cat world and now that he was gone, there was a hole that could not be filled by any other cat.

 _I'd feel lost if Leafpool died,_ Robinpaw thought anxiously. It would hurt doubly so, since she was his mother as well as his mentor. He knew that some private part of him was glad that it had been Barkface, not Leafpool, who'd been found dead on the moor.

"He's in StarClan," Robinpaw assured Kestrelpaw. "I know it. There's no need for you to feel so alone, Kestrelpaw."

Kestrelpaw only grunted, but he shifted close to Robinpaw. Their fur touched, and Robinpaw was grateful to give his friend the support he needed even if he wasn't sure how.

Yet as the day continued on, and the lesson with it, Robinpaw felt guilty. If Robinpaw hadn't seen Barkface at the Moonpool, then neither had Kestrelpaw or Leafpool – at least, they hadn't said anything about it.

Robinpaw trembled inwardly. _What would that mean, if he wasn't there?_

What if Barkface hadn't made it to StarClan?


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 _The sun was beginning to_ set on the third night of their journey when Lark suggested that they stop. The group was far out of Clan territory now, and Starlingthorn figured that they were more than halfway to Magpie and the others. They had left the lake behind them, and the comforting territory that had come with it – now they were surrounded by short, scrubby grass and Twoleg fences that marked off their farmland and territory. Cows _moo_ ed in the distance.

Starlingthorn was shocked at how exposed she felt out here. Did TigerClan territory truly feel so much like home now? She drew a paw over her ear while the others meandered about in the plains. Behind them was a small patch of woodland with a little cover and shelter, and the smell of prey was almost everywhere compared to the lake. Here it seemed much cooler, as if the tension between LionClan and TigerClan was what was causing the drought in the first place.

Owltail seemed the most unnerved. Every twitch of the grass made him jump, and Starlingthorn couldn't help but be amused. Even Lark chuckled now and again at Owltail's nervousness. _He must never have been outside Clan territory before,_ Starlingthorn decided.

On the other paw, Ashfur didn't seem to care one iota about anything seen or heard. The entire trip he kept his distance, scouting the outskirts and delivering tight-lipped reports that there was no danger before heading off again like a shadow. Now he was in the distance, circling the group and scouting out the patch of woods.

Lark snorted at the pale shape of him. "What a weird furball," she decided. "Hasn't said a single thing, yeah? What's his deal?"

"I wouldn't expect much more than this from him," Starlingthorn offered. Her eyes followed the pale tom as he padded through the ferns. "As for his deal, I'm not entirely sure myself."

It was half-true. Squirrelflight had explained Ashfur's story to the best of her ability when they had been captives together. Starlingthorn recalled feeling horrified by the end of it all, thinking that Ashfur was mad to do what he'd done. Perhaps he was, but he didn't show it. Starlingthorn was still on edge from the very presence of him – he knew too much, and now would be the best time to dispatch Starlingthorn if he saw fit.

 _I wonder if the Dark Forest was what changed him,_ Starlingthorn thought. Squirrelflight had described Ashfur so differently before he'd decided to betray the Clans. He seemed like a totally different cat now that Starlingthorn actually had an opportunity to get to know him more. Had the Dark Forest changed him?

"I'm starving," Owltail commented. His stomach gave a gurgle. "Hunting sounds great, don't you think?"

"Yes," Starlingthorn agreed. Her own stomach was clenching. She turned to Lark. "Is it safe to hunt around here?"

Lark was nodding. "Oh yeah, yeah," she meowed. "The Pinkskins don't bother you if you don't get too close to their homes, and the cows and such won't do a thing unless you scratch 'em."

Owltail took a deep, stiff breath and decided, "Then I'll go while you two find some shelter."

"Alone?" Starlingthorn wondered. Owltail didn't know these parts, and he seemed nervous.

Owltail flicked his tail. "Well, _Ashfur_ isn't going to go with me," he pointed out.

Lark chuckles and says, "Then I'll go with you, yeah?"

Owltail balked visibly.

Lark twitched an ear. "Clan cats are supposed to be so brave, yeah… are you so scared of a loner that you won't dare hunt with her?"

"Lark!" Starlingthorn scoffed.

Lark only chuckled again. She nudged Owltail with her muzzle and mewed, "Let's go – those mice won't catch themselves, yeah?"

"B-But what about -"

"Starling can handle herself," Lark insisted. She began padding towards the fences. "Hurry up!"

Owltail bristled before getting to his paws and following. Starlingthorn purred at them, mostly at Owltail for his mouse-brained attitude. She got to her paws herself and turned to the woods – it seemed like the best place to settle down, with shelter in case of rain. She set off for it.

The sky was reddening when she reached the woods. It was a little bigger than she'd thought, but a quick scent told her that they wouldn't be sharing the night with unwelcome company. She padded a few fox-lengths in before finding a nice shady spot to settle down. Her limbs were tired as she patted down the ferns for their nests, and her stomach growled.

She glanced out of the woods and into the plains. When would Owltail and Lark be back, she wondered?

Starlingthorn settled down in her nest and tucked her paws beneath her chest. She sighed, feeling the journey wearing down on her. They hadn't encountered any danger, but the looming sense of seeing Magpie again was weighing her down – along with all the other worries in her head. Were the others all right? Was Fletch all right? How sick was Magpie, and would she make it in time to pay her respects to the cat that raised her?

She settled her head down onto the ferns. It didn't smell like home, but she was shocked at how used to sleeping outside the TigerClan warrior's den was becoming. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that most of the warriors moved their nests away from her – unless she slept near Hawkstar, she had no company in the warrior's den.

 _I do miss him,_ Starlingthorn thought. Her heart ached as her eyes closed. _I hope he's doing all right without me…_

Sleep crashed over her and suddenly Starlingthorn opened her eyes to find herself in the dark, gloomy forest where the shadowy warriors made their home. Stunned by this, she whipped her head around and began scenting the air. How had she ended up here, when she was so far away from TigerClan?

She scented no one. Starlingthorn sighed and called out, "Mapleshade? Where are you?"

The woods were silent. Starlingthorn's pelt prickled at how eerily the trees seemed to watch her, leafless and shivering in a stiff, cold, breeze. Starlingthorn looked about, but there were no paths to or from this tiny clearing – it was as if she was in her own little world, trapped by the prickly nature of the Dark Forest.

She padded to the edge of her clearing and examined the undergrowth. It was so tightly-knit that Starlingthorn figured a cat could walk on it if the branches that poked up from it weren't sharper than claws. It was an impassable barrier that she dared not mess with.

 _I'm stuck here,_ she thought. _And I don't think anyone else is coming._

For good measure, she called again, "Mapleshade? Mapleshade!"

To her shock, it was not her Dark Forest mentor who answered – but a great voice, booming like thunder so hard it rattled the trees:

" _You cannot escape us!"_

The sound rocketed through Starlingthorn's body, jolting her awake. Panting, she lifted her head – all around her the sun had set, bringing night. Her eyes adjusted quickly, and she noted that Owltail and Lark weren't back yet – but Starlingthorn knew she wasn't alone regardless.

Ashfur.

He was sitting on his haunches beside her, a paw raised. Suddenly Starlingthorn was aware that the pale tom had possibly been trying to wake her. She turned to him only to find that his blue eyes stared stonily ahead.

"Owltail and Lark are returning," Ashfur reported quietly. "You can sleep after you've eaten."

Still rattled, Starlingthing sat herself up. Bits of fern were caught in her pelt and she began picking them out with a shaky muzzle. Ashfur stood beside her, silent as stone, saying nothing and glancing nowhere. The way he loomed made Starlingthorn even more uneasy, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was planning to strike.

"I know what you've seen," he said.

Starlingthorn looked up, shocked. This was more speech out of Ashfur than she wagered anyone got other than Hawkstar.

"What the voice said was true," Ashfur told her. He didn't seem to care that she was stunned. "Normal cats like you or I cannot escape the bonds of the Dark Forest – they wrap around us like vines, stick in us like thorns in our pads. Distance will not break that bond."

"W-Where had I gone?" Starlingthorn wondered. "I've never seen that part of the forest before."

Ashfur's eyes betrayed no feeling. "The Dark Forest warriors are the only ones who are capable of manipulating the wood in which they live. Only they can carve paths and lead you where you need to go. Yes," he added when her eyes widened, "the Dark Forest cats dictate where and when you go where you go."

The bushes ahead rustled. In the night, Starlingthorn could just make out the ear-tips of Owltail as he and Lark shifted through the undergrowth in the dark.

"Owltail seems unsettled, too," Ashfur pointed out. "He has been transported as well – but do not fear. No Dark Forest warrior will come this far out of their territory to train you."

Before Starlingthorn could ask any more, Ashfur got up and left. Simple and clean, with not a good-bye or nod to announce it. Owltail and Lark appeared just as the pale warrior disappeared into the undergrowth. To Starlingthorn's relief there was prey in her friend's jaws.

Starlingthorn helped Owltail and Lark arrange their prey – two voles, a mouse, and a bird – on a pile of ferns. When that was done they selected their prey and settled into their nests, Lark pressing close to Starlingthorn as she began to pick the feathers off of her bird.

"Lark's pretty good!" Owltail commented, his mouth full of vole. "She spotted that thing and made a leap so high, you might've thought she had wings!"

"Not wings," Lark chuckled. "Just strong legs, yeah?"

"Either way, you were very efficient!" Owltail chuckled. "I didn't expect that."

Lark shrugged. She stated, "You have to be, where I live."

Starlingthorn nodded along, but her mind was elsewhere. The prey between her paws didn't have a chance to grow cold, but she barely tasted it either. Her mind was fluttering about what Ashfur had said like a frightened thrush, and she just couldn't pin down what was bothering her.

Ashfur returned a few moments later, a rabbit in his jaws. He settled down far away from the others and ate his meal. Owltail commented on it, but Starlingthorn was still far away.

It was only when the meals were finished and the cats settled down in their nests that Starlingthorn realized what was bothering her:

If only the Dark Forest cats could manipulate the forest to go where they liked, then how did Robinpaw keep finding her?


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 _Sunhigh beat down on the patrol_ as they padded through the thick undergrowth. Heat was trapped in Lionpaw's naturally thick pelt and he wished he could shake it off like rainwater, but he knew it wouldn't go away. He followed behind his mentor as the patrol cut an imposing path for the old Twoleg nest.

Lionpaw's pelt was prickling with anticipation as the patrol neared their destination. It would be the first time he had been anywhere near the TigerClan border since the incident with Breezepaw two days ago, and he was eager to prove to Sorreltail that he wasn't just a kit bumbling around in the woods – he was a warrior!

Not only that, but this patrol was being led by Onestar – something the LionClan leader hardly did anymore. When he had insisted he needed some fresh air, half the Clan lined up to go on patrol with him – all the apprentices were bristling at the chance, but _Lionpaw_ was chosen to go, and that made him feel special and proud. _Onestar_ had chosen _him_ to go on patrol! It had put a skip in his step for sure.

With them were Ashfoot, Onestar's friend and deputy, Graystripe, and Willowfoot. It wasn't Willowfoot's first patrol, but Lionpaw could hear Graystripe whispering tips and other instructions to her as if he were her mentor. Lionpaw thought it great that the whole Clan was coming together to help bring Willowfoot up to speed, but he worried that maybe she was too soft for the fighting that TigerClan brought.

Yet Willowfoot was unperturbed, and the group marched on until the dilapidated Twoleg nest appeared over the next slope. Onestar stopped the patrol with a raised tail and they stood staring at it.

Lionpaw felt Sorreltail stiffen beside him and he felt sympathy cut through his heart. Here was where TigerClan had injured not only her daughter Cinderpaw, but brutally murdered her mate Brackenfur. Mouseflight had also been killed here, dragged off into the bushes and attacked relentlessly. Not only that, but TigerClan had marked every inch of the place in their scent and utterly destroyed Leafpool's herb garden, cutting LionClan off from a plentiful supply of vital herbs.

This was not a happy place.

"At least their stink seems to have finally gone," Ashfoot determined. Her blue eyes were hard. "Perhaps now Leafpool can resume her work here?"

"It's going to take a lot more strength than Leafpool and her apprentices have to put this place back into working order," Willowfoot pointed out glumly. "Twolegs find it easy because they're so big and have tools, but all we have are our paws and teeth. She'll need help."

"And she'll get it, should she want it," Onestar decreed. "Dustpelt may be an elder but he's still the foremost expert in building defensive structures. With his help I think we might be able to make this place safe again."

All fell quiet, and Lionpaw realized that everyone was looking at Sorreltail, whose eyes were locked upon the place where her mate had died. No one said a thing, but Lionpaw knew that they were all thinking about how Sorreltail must feel about the place.

It was Graystripe who broke the silence: "Let's set our markers and go," he suggested. His voice was brusque – Brackenfur had been his apprentice, and a good friend. "Still a lot of ground to cover."

"Agreed," Onestar decided. He twitched his tail and he and Graystripe set off to do so. Ashfoot kept a sharp eye, her gaze piercing the undergrowth for any TigerClan ambushers. Lionpaw planted himself to wait, knowing that if Onestar had wanted him to go down with them he would have said so.

Willowfoot shifted behind Lionpaw and settled beside Sorreltail. Lionpaw's ear twitched as Willowfoot murmured gently, "I'm sorry. This place must bring you so much pain."

"It does," Sorreltail replied curtly. "But I manage."

Lionpaw glanced at Willowfoot, but the pale she-cat did not look stung by Sorreltail's tone. She seemed to glow with understanding, and Lionpaw sensed that she only wanted friendship from the tortoiseshell she-cat.

"Graystripe told me about Brackenfur," Willowfoot went on. "He… sounded like a noble warrior."

"The noblest, next to Firestar," Sorreltail agreed. A hint of pride glimmered in her sorrowful amber eyes.

"I'm sorry," Willowfoot offered. "I wish I got to know him."

Sorreltail's eyes flashed, and she meowed gently, "So do I."

Lionpaw was shocked by the warmth of her tone, and he heard Willowfoot purr gently. Lionpaw didn't know Sorreltail well, but it seemed like she was finally getting over Brackenfur's loss – the pain would still be there, but she seemed able to talk about it more openly now.

 _I hope that sort of thing never happens to me,_ Lionpaw thought. _I never want to lose someone I love._

The undergrowth rustled as Onestar and Graystripe returned. LionClan scent was prominent again and with a nod, Onestar led the way down the slope. They passed the Twoleg nest and headed for the border.

Lionpaw's nose wrinkled and his spine bristled. TigerClan-scent was strong here, _very_ strong. And fresh. He instinctively unsheathed his claws and turned to Sorreltail as they passed a fern drenched in TigerClan-scent.

As if she knew his concern, Sorreltail affirmed, "Yes, they're fresh alright."

Onestar paused the patrol to sniff at the freshly-marked border. "Doesn't look like they've strayed," he growled, "but be alert just in case."

"I'm shocked," Ashfoot confessed. "After their loss, you'd think they'd be vying for more territory to make up for it."

"Silence," Onestar ordered. "The patrol can't be far away – let's keep marking and see what happens."

Lionpaw nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. Despite his extraordinary abilities, running across a TigerClan patrol still struck fear in him. _Once I can control my power, though, they'll be afraid of_ me.

He followed the patrol. Onestar and Graystripe marked the border at every TigerClan marking, sometimes twice as if to challenge. They even allowed Lionpaw to mark one, Onestar's reasoning being that it would upset TigerClan to think that an apprentice was willing to challenge them so heartily.

Soon enough, though, the patrol spotted rustling on the other side. Onestar raised his tail and the patrol went quiet as a dark ginger she-cat slid out of the undergrowth.

Lionpaw froze. He knew that cat – that was Russetfur, one of TigerClan's deputies. He'd seen her at the very last Gathering, when he and Heatherpaw had used the tunnels to sneak out to the island when they weren't supposed to. That Gathering had not ended well, and Lionpaw still dreamed of the fighting sometimes.

Behind Russetfur padded four other warriors, all lean and well-muscled – two toms and two other she-cats. Lionpaw didn't recognize them, but he _did_ see that, thanks to him, the LionClan patrol outnumbered the TigerClan one. That gave him a bit of satisfaction, but it was swallowed up by the tense atmosphere.

"Well lookit here," one of the toms, a smoky-black cat, sneered. "The wind stank, and now we know why!"

Lionpaw bristled, and he wasn't the only one. Ashfoot was offended, along with Sorreltail. Graystripe and Onestar were simply tense, their muscles prepared. Willowfoot to her credit put off an air of confidence.

Onestar curled his lip. He responded, "We were just trying to find the source of the dead-badger scent on our territory." He looked the gray warrior up and down and sneered, "Looks like we found it."

The gray warrior bristled, and the TigerClan patrol rippled with offense. The warrior growled, "That was a terrible comeback."

"Shut up, Smokefoot," Russetfur growled. "We're just here to mark the border and be done." Lionpaw frowned, noting that the ginger she-cat looked tired – they all did. How long had they been walking?

Onestar dipped his head and grunted, "Go on, then."

Russetfur lashed her tail but seemed content to leave it at that – yet as she turned away, one of the she-cats, a tortoiseshell, lifted her head and commented, "One of your scents is familiar… I've smelled it before."

Lionpaw flinched as her eyes turned to him. She snidely chuckled, "I wonder – was LionClan trying to steal our territory or are their apprentices just stupid?" She looked Lionpaw up and down. "I'm betting on the latter."

Hot underneath his fur, Lionpaw fluffed up in offense. He was about ready to spit at the tortoiseshell when Sorreltail touched his flank with her tail. It wasn't worth it to try and defend himself here – the TigerClan cats would only laugh, and make it worse. It didn't matter that Lionpaw _knew_ he and Breezepaw hadn't actually crossed the border.

"He didn't cross your border," Sorreltail offered sternly. "Leave it be."

Smokefoot fluffed his neck fur. "Why?" he growled. "Your apprentices need to be taught a lesson. In TigerClan we teach _respect!"_

"Enough, Smokefoot," insisted the other tom. He looked tired of everything at the moment, his tabby pelt dull like an elder's. Lionpaw wondered how old he was, and marveled at how far he must have come just to mark a border.

Smokefoot, however, was obviously a warrior fond of being agitated. He turned to the tabby and snarled, "Where are your claws, Oakfur? Or are you just as afraid of a fight as LionClan?"

Oakfur narrowed his eyes. "Now see here!" he growled.

"Enough!" Ashfoot snapped. She stepped forward and snapped, "Go argue somewhere else. If _any_ of you put a paw across our border, there _will_ be a fight – got it?" Her eyes narrowed at Smokefoot as she added threateningly, "You _know_ how well that went last time."

Lionpaw's heart dropped as Ashfoot's threat didn't have the intended effect on Smokefoot, or the rest of the TigerClan patrol. Infuriated, Smokefoot padded right up to the border and stated, "TigerClan is _unstoppable_ ," before placing one single paw over the scent line.

Ashfoot lunged forward with a roar and caught him by the throat, and suddenly the border-line exploded into battle.

Lionpaw was suddenly swept up in the rush. Ashfoot and Smokefoot wrestled on the border, squashing ferns beneath their bodies. Onestar, with a roar, was on top of the tortoiseshell who had pointed out Lionpaw, clawing at her sides. Graystripe and Willowfoot were teamed up against the other she-cat. Sorreltail wrestled with Russetfur.

Before he could plan his movements, Oakfur, the old tom, was on top of him. Lionpaw felt his claws pierce his dense golden pelt, but felt no pain. Satisfaction rushed up through his limbs like cold water on a hot day as he let out a roar and slashed at Oakfur's ears. The old tom screeched in sudden pain, blood dripping down his face, and backed off.

Lionpaw got to his paws. Anger surged through him, anger and pride – how _dare_ they cross the border, after all they'd done? How _dare_ they think they could challenge him when he was undefeatable? Lionpaw slammed into Oakfur and pressed him to the ground, claws digging into the old cat's ribcage.

Oakfur did not ask for mercy, and it was clear he had far more experience in battle than Lionpaw. As the screeching of the warriors battling rose around them, Oakfur twisted, jerking Lionpaw off of him. Okafur got to his paws once again, fur torn from his sides, and the two circled one another, hissing and spitting.

Impatience flared in Lionpaw and he leaped. Oakfur was ready – he ducked and rolled, slashing at Lionpaw's underbelly as he went. Lionpaw felt nothing, and knew Oakfur hadn't counted on that. While the older warrior was reeling with shock, Lionpaw lunged and dug viciously into his shoulder, tearing out a hunk of fur and leaving a patch of skin to redden and bleed behind.

Oakfur hissed in pain and slashed at Lionpaw's face. Despite his invulnerability, Lionpaw still ducked – the thought of claws coming into contact with his eyes wasn't a pleasant one. Oakfur took that advantage and bowled Lionpaw over, rolling him into a bramble bush.

Lionpaw recovered, but found himself tangled in the brambles. He tugged and tugged at his trapped limbs, feeling bramble thorns digging into his fur. He cursed – his invulnerability only spared him from pain, it seemed, not tangling brambles.

"You've got some decent moves, kit," Oakfur spat, approaching the brambles. "But this is where it ends!"

Lionpaw's heart dropped, and suddenly he recalled the horrible stories of Mouseflight's death – trapped in the bushes, all alone and isolated from the fight. Outnumbered and outclassed, and then killed without a second thought.

The rage in Oakfur's eyes died as a white blur bowled him over. Lionpaw was confused – there were no all-white cats on the patrol – until his eyes adjusted to the battle and he saw that it was Cloudtail wrestling with Oakfur!

With a warning call, more warriors flooded in – Brightheart skidded beneath Russetfur and flipped her onto her back so Sorreltail could strike a critical blow, and Weaselfur grabbed Smokefoot by the haunches and let Ashfoot get the advantage. Reinforcements had come!

Lionpaw untangled himself from the brambles and leaped back into the fray. Onestar let out a grunt of satisfaction as Lionpaw slid to his leader's side, delivering a blow to the tortoiseshell's cheek that sent her screeching back in retreat.

"Good job," Onestar praised.

"Thank you," Lionpaw replied.

The battle's rage slowed to a crawl as one by one TigerClan retreated over their border. Soon enough only Russetfur was left, and when she was released from Sorreltail and Brightheart's gasp she hissed, "This isn't over!"

"Tell that to Hawkstar!" Onestar spat. "Tell him how you _lost!"_

Russetfur's eyes burned with fury, but she fled into TigerClan territory, disappearing into the bracken.

With the danger over, Lionpaw sat down on his paws. His whole body ached, but the thrill of the fight still coursed through him. Every sense felt like it was lit on fire, sharp and intense and amazing all at the same time. The patrol was gathering themselves up, and all bore a scratch or bite – but Lionpaw felt only the hot breeze on his fur.

"Everyone all right?" Cloudtail asked.

There were mumbles of assent and positive answers – but Willowfoot pointed out, "I got a bad scratch on one side, but that's all."

"Good," Cloudtail offered.

Lionpaw looked at the silvery she-cat. Her injuries from the battle had been more severe, but it seemed like she was picking up LionClan defensive techniques well. Even for a kittypet, she was tough.

Cloudtail looked to Onestar. "What started this?" he wondered.

"TigerClan," Onestar replied. He bore a new scratch on his flank, alarmingly red. "They stepped over the border, and we had to challenge them."

Lionpaw flicked an ear, and Cloudtail's eyes flashed. Lionapw frowned. _Ashfoot egged them on, though,_ he thought. _The fault is in both of us, not just TigerClan._ Yet he knew better than to say anything. His opinion wasn't worth much with all these warriors around.

"Bramblestar needs to know," Cloudtail decided. "Brightheart and I will go with you, Onestar, to make the report. Weaselfur will continue with the patrol… unless Willowfoot is too injured to continue?"

The silver she-cat looked at Cloudtail in a way that dared him to go on. She said tautly, "I can go on, as far as necessary."

Cloudtail nodded. "All right," he said. He turned to Onestar and meowed, "Let's get going then."

The three of them left, leaving the patrol to pick themselves up. Willowfoot's wound was cleaned and she could stand, and she absolutely refused any sort of aid, even from Graystripe. Ashfoot took the lead and the patrol resumed along the border.

Lionpaw padded up to Weaselfur. The tom's tail was missing some fur, but he seemed all right. It was curious to Lionpaw, though – Cloudtail and Brightheart often hunted alone, confident in their own ability to work seamlessly together. Guests weren't usually invited – so why Weaselfur?

"You were with Cloudtail and Brightheart this morning?" Lionpaw asked. "Hunting?"

Weaselfur nodded. "Yeah," he replied. "It was… well, it was more intimidating than that battle, that's for sure."

"Oh?" Sorreltail chuckled. "They aren't badgers, though Cloudtail's attitude often stinks like one."

"Well…" Weaselfur looked a little embarrassed at all the sudden attention. Quickly, he meowed, "Since Whitewing is having my kits, I thought I ought to get to know her parents!"

"Kits?" Graystripe's eyes widened.

Lionpaw was stunned, too – Whitewing and Weaselfur had been close since the battle, but he hadn't expected kits so soon, if at all.

Weaselfur nodded. His expression turned guarded, and he seemed anxious as to what would be said next – yet Ashfoot kept her eyes on the patrol, and Willowfoot seemed preoccupied as well. Only Sorreltail and Graystripe offered him congratulations.

"T-Thanks," Weaselfur offered. It seemed like more than he'd expected, and he put his head down to stare at his paws as if he needed to make sure they went where they were supposed to.

Lionpaw frowned. He'd thought that an announcement of future kits would break the tense atmosphere – instead, it seemed to amplify it.

 _How could kits be a bad thing?_ He wondered.

* * *

"That fight was irresponsible," Bramblestar insisted hotly. "You shouldn't have allowed it to happen, Onestar!"

Onestar wasn't listening. Bramblestar had been expecting Onestar's usual dose of vitriol, but the lean tom was pacing the Highledge den, his eyes wide and shining with determination.

"They're weak!" Onestar raved. "Weak, I tell you!" His pawsteps kicked up dust as he padded back and forth. "They were thin; the drought _must_ be affecting them! And it's got to be hard to patrol all that land when there's no group in the pines to do it for them."

"What are you getting at?" Bramblestar wondered.

Onestar raised his head, suddenly listening now that Bramblestar seemed interested. "They're weak, and if this drought continues they'll be _vulnerable!"_ His eyes shone like stars. "StarClan _must_ have sent this drought to help us win this war!"

"Onestar," Bramblestar began, "the drought -"

"Enough, enough," Onestar insisted, cutting him off. Bramblestar frowned in irritation as Onestar meowed, "We'll leave them stew for a while, yes… and when the drought has parched them of their lake and their prey and the patrols have sapped them of all their strength, we'll strike! One decisive blow, and the war will be done!"

Concern flooded Bramblestar. Onestar was ecstatic at the thought, but it disturbed Bramblestar just how willing Onestar was to watch TigerClan starve in the drought. Just how far did he plan to take this idea of his?

"We can attack their patrols now and then," Onestar added enthusiastically. "Keep them frustrated. Keep Hawkstar _angry_ at them… and when the time is right the TigerClan warriors will be messing up left and right! It's perfect!"

"It sounds so, yes," Bramblestar offered worriedly. It _was_ a decent strategy – waiting had done nothing but bring LionClan pain in this war but it seemed like with the drought waiting was ideal. "But…"

"We will discuss it more later!" Onestar decided. He lashed his tail triumphantly. "Yes! We'll make a proper plan soon. When the Clan hears this… can you imagine their relief?"

Bramblestar nodded. He knew that the Clan would welcome any way to end the war – but relying on the drought to do most of the work? Even if the drought lasted long enough, warriors would still have to pay in blood to get the victory. A single dark cloud on the horizon could ruin it all and plunge LionClan and TigerClan back into their endless war.

Onestar turned away and left the den before Bramblestar could offer his opinions. Bramblestar breathed a heavy sigh – this war was having a drastic effect on the both of them, but Onestar seemed to be more addled by the pressure than Bramblestar could ever realize.

He kneaded his paws into the sandy floor. Something Onestar said bothered him – that _StarClan_ had sent the drought. His spine prickled at the thought – did StarClan really have that kind of power?

 _And if they did,_ he thought worriedly, _why would they inflict the drought on LionClan as well?_


	13. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 _The sky was growing dark_ when the patrol returned, ragged and limping all. Squirrelflight scented blood and lifted her head from her wash, shocked to see the warriors straggling into camp. Russetfur was in the lead, just as she'd been when she'd left, but instead of confidence in her eyes there was cold fury.

Squirrelflight fidgeted as the Clan gathered around questioningly. Worried mews flooded the patrol, but Russetfur and the others looked too furious to hear. Squirrelflight strained her ears as Hawkstar appeared from his willow den, unable to leave but wanting to hear what was happening all the same.

"… it was Smokefoot's fault in the end," Russetfur was growling. She threw a blazing glance at the gray warrior. "He was the one who decided it would be a good idea to egg on the LionClan patrol." Smokefoot said nothing in his defense, but he spat at the earth.

Hawkstar's ice-blue eyes were merciless as they bored into him, his face turned in disgust. _"Russetfur_ was the leader of that patrol, Smokefoot," he growled thinly, "not you. What does one do when assigned to a patrol with another cat as leader?"

Smokefoot grumbled, "Listen."

"Exactly," Hawkstar snapped. "Every one of these cats could have been killed because of _your_ mouse-brained actions!" His voice rose high in anger. "Since you cannot seem to recall just how to listen and when to speak, Smokefoot, you will be assisting the elders in _silence_ until you remember! Is that clear?"

Smokefoot's eyes widened, clearly stunned. But when the punishment processed, he only nodded and sulked to the back of the crowd, tail down. Squirrelflight shivered at the thought of being confined to camp in silence, but Smokefoot hadn't the bravery to challenge Hawkstar's punishment.

"They were fierce," Russetfur added on, once Smokefoot was gone. The Clan gathered even closer to her, leaning in to listen. "Confident, even. They fought well, and honestly they would have won even if that hunting patrol hadn't joined them."

Hawkstar narrowed his eyes. "You think so?" he hissed.

Russetfur nodded. "Yes," she replied.

"The patrol was tired," Oakfur put in. He had come out of the fighting the worst of them all, and Squirrelflight felt badly for the old tom. He looked worn and tired, and probably felt worse. Mothwing was dabbing his wounds with a poultice-damp paw. "It was a long way into the pines."

Despite it all, Squirrelflight took a deep breath of pride. LionClan seemed to be finding its paws again, thanks to their recent victory. In spite of their losses Squirrelflight's old friends were springing back, and she wished she'd been there to see TigerClan flee.

"Hawkstar," Oakfur went on. "I… I am loathe to say this, but this skirmish has made my mind up." The Clan listened as Oakfur took a deep breath. Then, he said, "It is time I became an elder. My age is a weakness TigerClan cannot afford."

To Squirrelflight's shock, Hawkstar was nodding in agreement. "Very well," the dark tabby decided. "You are an elder, Oakfur. Rest well."

Oakfur dipped his head. Squirrelflight felt sorrow in her heart as the Clan rumbled not in good will, but in dark tones. Squirrelflight's ears pricked as she picked up some warriors comments:

"… good riddance," muttered one.

"… was always weaker…" said another.

"… coward," spat a tom.

Squirrelflight's neck fur bristled. Were the Clans as they had been, no cat would have dared say that about Oakfur of ShadowClan! Oakfur had been a feared warrior in the earliest stories Squirrelflight could recall the elders telling her, and to see him lose that respect was horrifying.

"Being an elder used to mean something," sighed Willowshine. The pale she-cat had approached during the mockery of an elder's ceremony, herbs at her paws. "Now it just means you can't stomach fighting anymore."

"I can't believe just how far away they've fallen," Squirrelflight breathed, her lungs suddenly empty with sorrow. "And so quickly, too…"

Willowshine sniffed at Squirrelflight's leg. "And you still think that a loner can bring us our freedom from TigerClan?"

Squirrelflight swallowed, feeling Willowshine's skepticism like a blow. The she-cat had once been cheerful and optimistic, like her mentor Mothwing. Now she was cynical, hopeless – another angry TigerClan cat.

"Hawkstar," Rowanclaw meowed, his voice raising over the din of muttering. Oakfur had pushed himself away, and the cats grew silent to listen to their deputy: "We need a group in the pine camp. Patrolling all our borders just from here is too taxing on warriors and resources… and we've had reports that LionClan has a group in the hills again."

Hawkstar was nodding. "Yes," he agreed, "I know – but trust in me, Rowanclaw. I have a plan for the pine camp, and I will discuss it with you all soon. For now, our patrols will simply have to deal with it. We are TigerClan, after all – we don't let a silly thing like distance keep us from taking what we deserve."

"TigerClan!" called the warriors. "TigerClan!"

Hawkstar nodded and turned away, slinking back into his den. Squirrelflight stared after him, concern welling up in her – he had a plan for the pine camp… but what was it?

What did Hawkstar have in store?

* * *

"The air smells like home, yeah?"

Starlingthorn lifted her head at her friend's words. She sniffed, smelling familiar scents – hay, cows, chickens… yes, it did smell like home, but a home Starlingthorn had left what seemed like ages ago. Still, Starlingthorn didn't ignore the welcoming feeling of it all – she turned to Lark and nodded.

Evening was falling, darkness covering the sky. They were more than halfway to Magpie, and the journey was taxing on Starlingthorn thanks to the lonely dreams. Owltail seemed more agitated too, jumpy and Lark reported that he was shivery in the night. Starlingthorn had passed it off as Owltail being homesick, and thankfully Lark had believed that.

Ashfur seemed the most unaffected by the trip, trudging along either far ahead or far behind the party, his eyes focused straight forward as if he had no care for what might be lurking in any other direction.

"Here we are," Lark decided. "This will be good for the night."

"You've got to be kidding me!" Owltail cursed. "No way are we sleeping in a Twoleg nest!"

Starlingthorn looked ahead. It was a barn, long abandoned and half-broken down. It reminded her of the old Twoleg nest in LionClan territory, with how the vines were taking it over and how lost and empty it seemed. It had more of its roof intact, and Starlingthorn knew it would make good shelter – but Owltail was backing away, bristling with nerves.

"It's abandoned," Starlingthorn insisted. "Twolegs don't let their things get this way if they care about it."

"And there isn't anything living in it," Lark added. She tapped a paw at the ground and went on, "I don't know about you, but I'm sick of sleeping outside, yeah? At least if something attacks us in there we won't get separated."

Owltail looked between the two she-cats. Knowing he wouldn't get any support from Ashfur, Owltail sighed and headed into the den. Lark purred in amusement and followed, and Starlingthorn slunk inside behind them, her limbs dragging with tiredness. Ashfur did not follow.

"Lookit that!" Lark chimed when they were inside, her voice echoing off of the intact walls. "Nice big piles of hay!"

Owltail's tail kinked as Lark let out a joyous chirp before flinging herself into the old straw pile. Starlingthorn's whiskers twitched in amusement as hay fell down like rain, landing lightly on the cats' pelts. The old barn was still stacked full of it, and it was fairly fresh – perhaps, Starlingthorn figured, it was used to simply store hay?

"Be quiet!" Owltail hissed. "What if Twolegs come?"

Lark chuckled. "I stayed here before," she purred. "Pinkskins only come in here during the day to get the hay, yeah? They won't bother us at night and we'll be long gone before they get here."

Owltail lashed his tail, but he didn't fight Lark. Using his paws he dragged out a hunk of hay and patted it into a nest. Starlingthorn followed suit, surprised at how prickly the hay felt in comparison to moss and reeds. Starlingthorn rested her head on her paws in befuddlement – she used to sleep on hay all the time! When had it stopped being comfortable?

"Is someone going to keep watch?" Owltail wondered grumpily. "I can -" to counter his point, he let out a large yawn. Starlingthorn blinked in sympathy – it was clear he hadn't been sleeping well.

"I can," Lark decided. She had settled herself into the most of the hay, paws tucked beneath her. "Get some sleep, yeah?"

Owltail didn't protest. He rested his head on his paws and closed his eyes – asleep within heartbeats. Starlingthorn felt her paws pulling her muzzle towards them. She huddled up and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Starlingthorn's eyes opened to the empty clearing in the Dark Forest. The lifeless brambles were claustrophobic, the mist around her paws stifling. Starlingthorn shivered at the chill in the air, and wondered yet again just where she was in the dark, tangled forest.

Just as she worried that she would wander here alone, listening to nameless echoes, the vines before her parted and through them came…

Robinpaw.

The small apprentice looked stunned at where he had ended up – clearly confused, as he had no clue where he was. He looked at Starlingthorn in shock, mouth agape.

"Where _are_ you?" Robinpaw wondered. "I was walking for a while!"

Starlingthorn flicked her tail. There was no point in explaining exactly where she was in the real world, since she didn't know who was listening even here in the outreaches of the Dark Forest. Yet something stunned her more – the way the world around Robinpaw warped and moved, as if it were bowing out of his way. It made her paws tremble – how had she not noticed that before?

"How did you get here?" Starlingthorn wondered. She hoped he would answer rather than demand she answer his question. "The forest shouldn't move so easily…"

Robinpaw only shrugged. "It makes a path to where I want it to go," he replied. "I wondered where you were – you haven't been around the past few nights."

Starlingthorn blinked in surprise. The forest moved _for_ Robinpaw? "But it shouldn't," she sputtered. "T-The forest here moves for the _warriors_ who live here. Not apprentices!"

Robinpaw's eyes widened only slightly. "Maybe the warriors wanted me to see you?" he wondered hesitantly. He looked down at his own paws and murmured, scared, "I-I'm not one of them…!"

Starlingthorn frowned, seeing the fear in his eyes. "No, you're not," she assured him firmly. "You're still a normal cat." She planted her paws and hoped that Robinpaw knew he wasn't one of those dark spirits.

 _But Robinpaw says that the forest moves for him,_ Starlingthorn thought. Thinking back to Ashfur's words, that oughtn't be possible. _The forest can't want him to meet me – the warriors must want to keep him isolated so that they can use him to spy on LionClan._

 _So why can he move more freely than I or other apprentices?_

"So," Robinpaw interjected. His face went hard, and it seemed like his uncertainty had been replaced by shaky confidence. "You never answered me – _are_ you a TigerClan warrior?"

Starlingthorn swallowed – she hadn't expected him to forget his own suspicions, but she hadn't expected him to bring it up so frankly… and with such a serious expression! The young cat looked moons older, like a stronger, braver cat as he waited for Starlingthorn's answer.

 _It's better that he finds out from me, and not someone else,_ Starlingthorn lamented, _but this might just open up a wound I can't close…_ Would he really trust her? How could he _think_ of trusting her, after all the things that TigerClan had done?

She took a deep breath. "I am," she confessed. Robinpaw's expression darkened, and he took a cautious step back. Starlingthorn went on, "Robinpaw, there is far more to this than can be explained here – _please_ …"

Robinpaw's ears were pinned back, but he didn't flee. Starlingthorn sighed with relief – perhaps he would still trust her? Here there were too many ears listening, even in this desolate part of the forest. She'd hoped she hadn't given too much away already.

"I-If you're TigerClan," Robinpaw stammered, stunned, "t-then where _are_ you?"

"Far away," Starlingthorn replied. "Far out of Clan territory."

Robinpaw swallowed.

"Robinpaw," Starlingthorn meowed gently, "I'm sorry. I never meant to deceive you."

"Y-You helped my friend," Robinpaw stammered. He gave her a hard look. "I might not be able to trust you fully, but you did that and… and she's doing all right. With the swimming, that is."

For a moment Starlingthorn hadn't known what Robinpaw was talking about – but at the mention of swimming, she recalled. Starlingthorn breathed a sigh and admitted, "I'm glad – I'm not sure it would work the same way with your friend like it did for mine." No one had expected Lark to take to swimming as she had – by the end she'd loved it and would often pull Starlingthorn or Fletch into the water with her though neither were too fond of water themselves.

"You must be a good medicine cat," Starlingthorn went on, pushing the thought of water out of her mind. "For that treatment your friend needs to put a lot of faith and confidence in you!"

" _You_ gave me the idea," Robinpaw insisted, shaking his head. "I'm not worthy of that kind of praise."

Starlingthorn's ears pricked. "Yes, I did tell you," she agreed. "But you're the one who trusted me and acted on my advice. Not every cat is the same, so you and your mentor must have worked hard to make it work for them. Sharing ideas isn't a bad thing, Robinpaw – it doesn't make you a bad healer to listen to another. I might not have known if it was a good idea, but I'm glad I suggested it."

"I am, too," Robinpaw agreed. He was stiff. Then, he said, "W-We… we can't talk like this. You're a TigerClan cat and I… I can't betray my Clan."

"I know," Starlingthorn agreed solemnly. _Poor cat is being used enough as it is._ "I have no desire to use what you say to me against you or your Clan… but I understand."

Robinpaw looked away from her, his mouth curled into a tight grimace. Starlingthorn sighed to herself, knowing that the trust between them was one-sided and shaky.

"I need to go," Robinpaw decided.

"Very well," Starlingthorn meowed in understanding. Robinpaw turned away, but Starlingthorn insisted, "Please, Robinpaw – think about what I said. About the forest moving _for_ you – there's… something about that."

"Like what?" Robinpaw wondered. His pale eyes looked back at her, filled with concern.

"I don't know," Starlingthorn admitted. "But that's not how it should be." She swallowed. Knowing it was a stretch, she insisted, "Please – don't just see me. See where else you can go… but try to stay out of the warriors' way. They will stop you."

Robinpaw frowned, and then turned away from her. Starlingthorn swallowed again, a lump in her throat. TigerClan was using him – the Dark Forest warriors could _hurt_ him if he stumbled somewhere he didn't belong… right? She prayed she wasn't requesting he fall into a death trap.

"When I get the chance," Robinpaw offered, though his tone was uncertain. He turned away from her and passed through the forest.

Starlingthorn sighed, and suddenly the world spun in circles around her. A moment later, she was in the waking world, with Lark's paw on her shoulder. The smells of the barn drifted into her nose, and Starlingthorn yawned.

"You all right?" Lark wondered.

"Hm?" Starlingthorn grunted tiredly.

"You were muttering about robins in your sleep, yeah?" Lark suggested. She narrowed her eyes quizzically. "Are you hungry for robins?"

Starlingthorn stiffened, and wondered if she'd revealed more than that in her sleep. Lark, however, gave no more indication than that. Her belly feeling suddenly empty, Starlingthorn sighed.

"Sure," she meowed. "Robins sound good."

"Then get up, you lump!" Lark chuckled. The patterned she-cat leaped off of the hay and onto the barn's wooden floor. "We've still got a little to go!"


	14. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 _Robinpaw was tense when he_ woke. His dream lingered in his mind, seeing Starlingthorn – a _TigerClan_ cat! – talking him about the forest and Cinderpaw. Robinpaw dug his claws into his nest. Why was a TigerClan cat trying to help him – wasn't she betraying her Clan? Has she been the reason for his dream…?

 _No,_ he told himself. His dream had been false, yes; but she was a normal cat. She wouldn't be able to send him a dream like that as far as he knew. And besides, she was sucked up into the woods in her dreams just like he was. There had to be a reason.

But he'd trusted her, and Robinpaw felt sour because of it. After everything that TigerClan had done, his only friend in that dream-place was one of them. Silverhawk was certainly not what he seemed – his rough training sessions left Robinpaw too sore, both physically and emotionally. Something was wrong about all this, and Robinpaw wondered if Starlingthorn had been trying to tell him about it all along.

 _How can I believe anything she says now, thought?_ Robinpaw wondered. He swallowed. _She's a TigerClan cat. She could be lying!_

"Robinpaw! You're awake!"

Robinpaw pricked his ears. Cinderpaw was moving around the den, shuffling her pawsteps but moving nonetheless. Robinpaw placed a paw against the ground to feel her movements. She was stiff but she wasn't babying her leg as much as she had been before.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Good!" Cinderpaw chirped. "Just going to take my medicine."

Robinpaw got up and stretched, then he licked his thick chest fur. "Are you going swimming with Stormfur again?" he wondered during his light grooming session.

He didn't hear Cinderpaw nod, but he assumed she had. "Graystripe is coming, too," she meowed. "It's been a while since Graystripe's been swimming."

"Oh?" Robinpaw wondered. He'd never known that the old warrior could swim.

Cinderpaw went on, "He lived with RiverClan, back in the old forest. After a while with them he was swimming like a fish!"

Robinpaw cocked his head. Cinderpaw was so certain, it almost sounded like she'd been there herself. Sometimes Cinderpaw did that – said or did things that didn't make much sense. It was a quirk of hers, but it always set Leafpool's heart racing when it happened. Robinpaw wondered why.

"Graystripe wanted to come," Cinderpaw went meowed. "To flex his swimming muscles, I guess."

"Well, be careful," Robinpaw meowed. "The lake's been getting low. That mud is going to be dangerous."

Cinderpaw purred. "You're cute when you worry, Robinpaw; but I'll be fine. Stormfur and Graystripe are strong, and I'm getting stronger too! Leafpool said that by the full moon I might be able to _run_ again!"

Robinpaw swallowed. His misgivings about Starlingthorn were like a chestnut in his throat – without the dark she-cat's help, Cinderpaw wouldn't be nearly this optimistic, if she was at all. Starlingthorn's advice was what helped spur it on, and without it Cinderpaw would be lying her nest moping over her medicine and exercises.

 _I can't be too hard on Starlingthorn,_ he told himself. _If she's bad, I'm sure she'll show her true colors soon enough. Right now she's been helping me, and… maybe if I can get her to trust me a lot more, she might tell me stuff about TigerClan. That would be useful…_

Cinderpaw's sigh broke Robinpaw thoughts. From across the den, Kestrelpaw wondered, "What's up? Is it your leg?"

"No," Cinderpaw meowed. Her tone was sorrowful. "I just thought about the moon being full again soon – there won't be any more Gatherings, will there?"

Robinpaw frowned. "No, I don't think so," Kestrelpaw offered sympathetically. "A shame… none of the apprentices ever got a chance to go… I wonder what they were like before TigerClan ruined them?"

"Wonderful!" Cinderpaw meowed enthusiastically. Robinpaw imagined her blue, blue eyes shining. "They were a great chance to meet cats from outside the Clan, and they made the relationships between Clans much stronger. There was a lot to be learned… but now it's all gone."

"How would you know that?" chuckled Kestrelpaw. "Cinderpaw, you're weird – you've never been to a Gathering before!"

Cinderpaw huffed, "I _know!_ But I can _imagine!_ Geez, Kestrelpaw!"

Kestrelpaw chuckled, and Robinpaw's whiskers twitched. Robinpaw got out of his nest to finish grooming, and in his mind he went over his chores for today – he was going to check on the elders and queens, and give medicine to Whitewing, but the little specifics were falling away from him thanks to his dream.

Starlingthorn had mentioned that the woods shouldn't move like they do, and Robinpaw wasn't sure what she meant. Why was it important that Robinpaw could go where he liked? He thought it worked that way for anyone in the forest, not just him. Was there something odd going on with him in that place? Robinpaw hadn't felt anything stranger than he was used to.

The ferns at the entrance to the den swished, and in came Leafpool. She smelled of fresh-kill, and Robinpaw sensed that she'd brought them breakfast – or at least one of them. Leafpool laid the mouse in her jaws at Robinpaw's paws.

"For you," she purred, before giving him a lick between the ears.

"Aw, none for us?" Cinderpaw complained. "I'm _hungry!"_

Leafpool meowed, "Stormfur and Graystripe said that they'd take you hunting before your swim today." Before Kestrelpaw could say his peace, Leafpool added, "Kestrelpaw and I are going to hunt while we restock."

Robinpaw bent down to eat the mouse. Leafpool and Kestrelpaw clustered together, getting ready to leave.

"Do you have an idea of what we need?" Leafpool wondered.

"I do," Kestrelpaw replied. "I was looking into it, like you asked me to."

"Thanks," Leafpool breathed. She shifted, and to Cinderpaw she meowed, "Please be careful in the water, all right?"

"I will," Cinderpaw meowed. Then, she asked, "Leafpool… will there ever be another Gathering?"

Leafpool answered uncertainly, "I honestly don't know. With the way the last one ended, I don't think the Clans will ever gather together in the same way again. Besides, Bramblestar and Onestar decided for our own safety that we don't go the island anymore."

She sighed and said, "It's a shame, since StarClan loves the Gatherings… I don't think they think of it the same way now, though."

"Do you think they'd be mad at us for missing Gatherings?" Kestrelpaw wondered.

Leafpool answered, "I'm not sure… but I think they understand."

Robinpaw finished his meal. Leafpool gathered up Kestrelpaw, and together they left. Robinpaw yawned when they were gone, left alone with Cinderpaw in the den. He got to his paws and began arranging the herbs he'd need for tending to his duties today.

He sighed at the mess that was the herb crevice. Leafpool hadn't been sleeping well since Barkface's death, working hard to train both of her apprentices. Along with their resident patient, Leafpool was working overtime.

Robinpaw scraped together his herbs and was about to leave when Cinderpaw's low voice stopped him:

"Oh Leafpool," she was murmuring. "you're still far too hard on yourself."

Robinpaw slipped out of the crevice, frowning at Cinderpaw's words. Cinderpaw sounded like an elder sometimes, and Robinpaw seriously wondered if her usual demeanor was an act. Still, it was better not to dwell on it when there was work to be done.

Graystripe and Stormfur came to pick up Cinderpaw while Robinpaw was sorting out his herbs. With them gone, the den was empty, and it was time for Robinpaw to go about his duties to the Clan. Herbs in his jaws, Robinpaw padded out of the den and into the camp.

* * *

Robinpaw sighed. Sunhigh had passed and his duties were done, but the heat felt heavy on his pelt. He had finished a short wash, having his ears open to the activities of the camp. There was a collective tension hanging over the cats of LionClan and it seemed like the heat was only amplifying it. Robinpaw, too, wondered if there would be a break in sight.

The elders and queens weighed heavily on his mind. The elders had been crotchety, as usual, but their conversation was dark and dismal. They didn't seem keen on looking at the brighter end of things, and Dustpelt's addition to the den didn't help that cynicism. Dustpelt seemed twice as grumpy as any elder, possibly because he had been forced into the den.

Going to the nursery hadn't been much better. Though Robinpaw had been looking forward to leaving the elder's negativity behind, the queens seemed just as bad, if not worse since they seemed to hide it a lot better. Ferncloud's tone when she spoke of her kits made Robinpaw wonder if she feared losing them any moment now – and Brook and Whitewing didn't seem very enthused about their kits, either. Daisy had been a little optimistic, but even blind Robinpaw could see she was putting on airs for his benefit.

 _No one seems capable of thinking positively,_ Robinpaw thought. He kneaded his paws into the dusty earth. _Is it TigerClan, really? Or is it this heat? We won a battle and our latest skirmish went in our favor – shouldn't we still be happy about that?_ Did victories really mean so little, or was the Clan just so used to thinking TigerClan could just sweep in and destroy them at any moment?

Robinpaw sighed again, feeling heavier. _The Clan needs something to bring its spirits up…_

 _The Clan needs a Gathering again._

Robinpaw's ears shot up. He recalled how, just earlier, Cinderpaw had expressed how important and amazing Gatherings were. How important they were to the Clans, to StarClan, even. Cinderpaw had never been to a Gathering, but perhaps she was on to something?

From the sound of things, Bramblestar and Onestar were sitting in their usual spot beneath the Highledge. It was one of the shadiest spots in camp, and lots of cats gathered beneath it. Robinpaw got to his paws and headed for them, feeling the heat lifting a little off his pelt as he came under the shadow of the Highledge.

"… patrols have been sent out," Bramblestar was murmured. "We'll see what they come back with, and then -"

"Robinpaw," Onestar meowed in greeting. He cut off his low conversation with Bramblestar. "What is it?"

"We need to have a Gathering again," Robinpaw stated.

Silence. Robinpaw didn't need sight to know that Onestar and Bramblestar were taken aback by the thought. Robinpaw took their silence as a means to go on:

"I know we can't gather on the island anymore, but why let TigerClan ruin the tradition altogether?" he reasoned. Sounding more enthusiastic, he meowed, "The Clan needs something to look forward to – a positive consistency that will lift up their spirits! It doesn't have to be the exact same sort of Gathering, but it could follow the same principles."

"That sounds great!" chimed in Cloudtail. Robinpaw flinched, embarrassed at himself for not detecting the warrior nearby. Cloudtail approached and added, "It could be a like a big Clan meeting!"

"E-Exactly," Robinpaw agreed. "Since we're just one Clan we don't need to wait for the other Clans, and we can say more. Right?" He'd never been to a Gathering before – he assumed it was mostly talking from what he'd heard described from warriors.

"We've been one Clan for several seasons," Cloudtail pointed out, "but it still seems like some cats don't know one another well. This would be a good opportunity for that."

"It sounds like a great idea," Bramblestar agreed. "With so much going on, neither of us thought of creating any sort of supplement to a Gathering. Onestar?"

"I'd be willing to give it a shot," Onestar admitted. "Robinpaw is right – we shouldn't let TigerClan ruin our ability to honor our Clan's accomplishments and our warrior ancestors. Traditional Gatherins are important, but… I don't think StarClan will object to this replacement. Especially since the idea came from a medicine cat."

Robinpaw felt a little excitement in his paws. "S-So… are we going to do it?" he wondered, his voice trembling.

"We'll try," Bramblestar promised. "Let me and Onestar talk it over and we'll see what can be done."

Robinpaw's tail flicked in triumph. Though he was sure Onestar and Bramblestar would have listened if it was any cat, perhaps it was best that he had been the one to suggest it. Besides, it didn't seem like anyone else was coming up with any ideas.

 _Starlingthorn might have given me the idea for Cinderpaw's treatment, but I don't need her for all my ideas,_ he thought. Confidence filled him. _Because of me the Clan will have something to be happy about!_

* * *

"I'll see you at sundown," Lionpaw offered. "Good luck hunting!"

"Good luck training," Spottedpaw threw back. The two touched noses before parting. Spottedpaw watched Lionpaw and his training patrol head off into the undergrowth before she turned to her own patrol – Nightcloud, Berryfrost, and her mentor, Brightheart.

Spottedpaw stretched. Part of her had wanted to do some battle training today, but she supposed she would tomorrow. Hunting with her mentor was just as important, and it would give her a good opportunity to stretch her legs – besides, how often did she get to go on patrol with her friend?

"Let's get on," Nightcloud decided.

The dark she-cat led the way through the forest. To Spottedpaw's dismay – and the patrol's – they were heading towards the TigerClan border. The entire patrol tensed; but orders were orders, and no one had hunted there since the skirmish between patrols.

As if to lighten the mood, Brightheart chuckled, "So, Berryfrost – how does it feel?"

"W-What?" the cream-colored warrior wondered.

"To be the only tom in a patrol full of she-cats!" Nightcloud rasped, catching on to Brightheart's train of thought.

Spottedpaw's whiskers twitched in amusement as Berryfrost's hackles fluffed in indignation. He retorted, "I could have joined an all-tom patrol if I wanted!"

Brightheart and Nightcloud purred in amusement, and Spottedpaw chuckled. Poor Berryfrost's stump of a tail was fluffed, but he looked a little more relaxed than he had a moment before.

Before the patrol reached the border, Nightcloud stopped them. Spottedpaw could hear the lake lapping against its dwindling shoreline not far off, and wagered that they were opposite the old Twoleg nest; a good thing, since Spottedpaw felt that too many cats had been there recently.

"Berryfrost and I will try to find something further down the shore," Nightcloud decided. "Even with the water low, there ought to be prey looking for a drink. Brightheart, take Spottedpaw and search a little further inland; don't stray too far."

Brightheart nodded respectfully. Spottedpaw admired that about her mentor – able to handle orders from a cat seasons younger than she was without complaint. Berryfrost and Nightcloud headed off down the shoreline, while Brightheart and Spottedpaw made their way up the slope and further into the forest.

"Be careful," Brightheart murmured. "The border isn't far off."

Spottedpaw nodded knowingly.

With a flick of her tail, Brightheart asked, "What can you smell?"

Spottedpaw opened her jaws. Scents flooded her glands, but unfortunately prey wasn't the strongest smell. She _did_ manage to find something, though – a bird. Spottedpaw told Brightheart.

"Good," Brightheart mewed. "Let's go."

The two she-cats set off towards the bird scent, low to the ground and silent on their paws. Soon enough, about two fox-lengths away, the bird sat pecking amongst the dry roots of an elm. Brightheart and Spottedpaw were more than a pace apart, one ready to pounce should the other fail in catching the bird.

Yet when Brightheart gave the signal that she was about to strike, Spottedpaw could see her echo trying – and failing. Spottedpaw rushed ahead instead, slamming her paws into the bird and killing it rather ungracefully with her claws.

Panting, Spottedpaw looked at her mentor and wondered just how much trouble she was in – but Brightheart's eye was open in astonishment.

"I've never seen you move so fast, Spottedpaw!" she breathed. "What came over you?"

Spottedpaw caught her breath. _I can't tell her about my power… but what made Brightheart's attempt fail?_ She searched, trying to keep her fur from fluffing. Then, she saw it – a stick, just before Brightheart's paws. A pace more and it would have cracked beneath her and the bird would have been scared off. Spottedpaw pointed this out.

Brightheart's ears pricked. "Wow," she decided. "Good catch!" Her tone turned embarrassed, and she added, "My ability to see things so close and so far away isn't the best, I'm sure you know… Thank you."

Spottedpaw nodded. "It's all right," she said in understanding.

Brightheart's eye brightened, and she meowed, "Let's see what else we can find, shall we? And keep an eye out for more sticks… they're falling off all the time because of this drought."

* * *

"This is unfortunate," Nightcloud decided.

The hunting patrol had gathered together as the sun began to sink behind the trees. Spottedpaw's heart sank – Berrynose and Nightcloud had only managed to get a rabbit… and the bird Spottedpaw had caught was all that she and Brightheart had found themselves. She looked plaintively at the warriors, hoping they knew some sort of solution.

"There was nothing else," Berryfrost sighed. "Nightcloud was lucky to catch this one unawares!"

"If we'd have traveled further we would have risked interfering with the other hunting party," Brightheart pointed out somberly. "This drought is more of a problem than we thought."

Spottedpaw looked down at their measly catch. Two pieces of prey was considered a lot in leaf-bare, but it was nearing the middle of greenleaf. If hunting kept up like this, their territory wouldn't be able to support them. Spottedpaw thanked StarClan for what she'd been able to get, though it was only because of her power.

"Let's head back," Nightcloud decided. "Perhaps the other hunters were luckier than us."

The group gathered up their catch and headed back to camp. Spottedpaw's neck sagged under the weight of the rabbit in her jaws – but she knew the weakness was from disappointment, not herself. The group plodded on and headed through the gorse tunnel.

Spottedpaw saw Lionpaw washing himself outside the apprentice's den, looking tired but pleased. She would speak with him later, when Brightheart was done with her. Spottedpaw and Brightheart deposited their catch on the meager pile and then caught up with Nightcloud, who was making her report to Ashfoot and Cloudtail.

"Sandstorm's patrol reported similar results," Cloudtail said as Brightheart and Spottedpaw approached. "She led them into the moorland, even, and she reports that the drought has caused the stream between the forest and the moors to recede."

"It's drying up?" hissed Berryfrost in shock. Nightcloud pinned her ears, and Brightheart stiffened. Spottedpaw kneaded her paws into the ground concernedly. The stream was drying up? But it was the closest source of water to the camp!

Those cats left in camp who were listening in rippled in panic as well. Mutterings and murmurings of worry flowed through them like wind in the branches, and Spottedpaw wondered if there might be a Clan-wide panic on their paws.

"It'll be all right," Ashfoot offered. "We've faced weather like this before, and it's never lasted long."

"But what if it does?" asked Spiderleg. The wiry warrior's words were supported by the worried voices of his Clanmates. "What if TigerClan thinks they can take our territory? They must be facing similar problems."

"What if we took _their_ territory?" wondered Birchfall beside his brother.

"Now _there's_ an idea!" Spiderleg breathed in agreement – and this thought was carried and passed through the crowd. Spottedpaw's eyes widened at the amount of cats whose minds suddenly turned from worry to excitement. A lump formed in her throat when she saw Lionpaw's eyes sparkle in the crowd.

"Yeah!" agreed another cat. "Let's get the jump on _them_ this time!"

"I wonder how _they_ would like their territory taken out from under them!"

Cloudtail's tail fluffed at the growing approval. He managed, "We'll speak with Bramblestar and Onestar about it! For now, all of you need to get back to your duties!"

Spottedpaw watched the Clan disperse into groups – but few were muttering in indignation. Most were chittering with excitement, tails lashing to and fro at the thought of getting even with TigerClan. Spottedpaw trembled at the thought of another battle… and with how excited the Clan was, could their leaders really deny the warriors?

"Doesn't that sound great, Spottedpaw?"

Spottedpaw turned her head to see Lionpaw standing beside her. His eyes were wide and his thick ruff was fluffed.

"I mean," he went on, "this time _we'd_ be able to take something from them!"

Spottedpaw flattened her ears. "Mouse-brain!" she spat. "Do you think they'd roll over and just let us take their territory?"

Lionpaw looked unperturbed. "TigerClan seems tired," he told her with a shrug. "In the border skirmish they weren't fighting their hardest. Now is probably the best time to get back at them, honestly!"

Spottedpaw looked at her brother. Surely this war wasn't going to devolve into a kits game of tit-for-tat? Treating cats' lives like playthings, expendable for the cause? Her mouth was dry, and she had no way to express her frustration to her brother without sounding like a traitor. So she kept her mouth shut – but stayed appalled all the same.


	15. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

" _Almost there!" called Lark_.

She was just ahead of the group, her tail up and kinked in excitement. Yet the spring in her step wasn't there. Starlingthorn narrowed her eyes at her friend – Lark had always been happy to roam, but she'd been even happier to return home. She's always had a sparkle in her eyes or a skip to her step, but neither were present and it seemed like Lark's chipper tone was for her guests' benefit, not hers.

"Finally," Owltail sighed. He looked about – but there was nothing but Twoleg fields in sight, with the buzz of their machinery in the distance as they prepared their fields for crops. Starlingthorn kept one ear on the machines, knowing just how dangerous they were.

Owltail snorted. "She must be lost," he grumbled. "I don't see anything a cat would want to live in…"

Starlingthorn assured him, "It's out there." Owltail grunted but said nothing more. Starlingthorn swung her head around, looking for Ashfur. The dark tom was a shadow, cresting a hill a fair distance away as the sun rose behind him. She snorted – there was no way he'd heard Lark, but there was no way she was going to tell him.

She set her sights on her own paws, and Lark before her. As much as she wanted to see Magpie and the others again, Starlingthorn couldn't get herself to feel excited. There was clearly something wrong at her old home, and it wasn't just Magpie falling ill. Lark wouldn't say a thing about what was happening, and that worried Starlingthorn.

The pace kept up, though. Lark led them underneath a wooden fence, much to Owltail's dismay, and into a barren Twoleg field. Starlingthorn sniffed warily – here in its outskirts there was little smell, and it seemed like Twoleg monsters came back here. This earth wasn't churned for crops, but it was rather barren and lifeless all the same – the very, very edge of a Twoleg's backyard, it seemed.

There wasn't much here – but Starlingthorn could see a familiar hill in the distance, crested with a little lavender. Her heart beat faster and memories flashed before her eyes. Her old home was just over that hill – they really _were_ close!

"Be careful," Lark offered. "There's sometimes -"

She was interrupted by barking.

"Dogs!" Starlingthorn cursed. She remembered now – and as she turned to the sound of the barking, those horrible, slavering beasts were rounding on them. One was big and dark, thrice the size of any cat with ten times the muscle. The other had a feathered, golden-colored coat with a long muzzle and tongue. Both were not friendly towards cats, as evidenced by their slavering and vicious barking.

" _Run!"_ Lark screeched.

The cats bolted, kicking up clods of dirt. Owltail and Starlingthorn caught up to Lark quickly, and the three cats scrambled for the opposite fence – but it seemed an eternity away and the dogs' hot breath was just on their heels.

Starlingthorn recalled Magpie warning them about the dogs, long ago when Fletch had angered them and was nearly killed. A warning to keep away, and only cross when they were sure the dogs were inside… but on a sunny day like this? Of course they would be out.

 _It's so early though,_ Starlingthorn thought frantically. _Lark didn't do this on purpose!_

Throats drying and sides heaving with effort, the cats pumped their legs as fast as they could manage. The fence was inching ever closer, but the dogs were hot on their heels and gaining. Starlingthorn could see them when she looked back, their eyes dark with glee as they slavered at Owltail, who was falling behind.

Starlingthorn spun on her paws and reared up, claws flashing. She slashed the golden dog across the nose, causing him to halt his stride suddenly and fall over himself in a tangle of paws and fur. The other dog, the big black brute, turned easily and headed straight for Starlingthorn.

Bracing herself, Starlingthorn prepared herself for the dog's teeth meeting her body – but a screech split the air, and a shadow fell over the beast.

Before it could react, a cat landed on the dog's back. Digging into the thick fur, the tabby tom scored his claws down the dog's back, causing it to whine in pain. Starlingthorn's heart was in her throat – Fletch!

She leaped to his aid, slashing at the dog's frothing jowls. She caught a sensitive spot, and the dog whirled away, whining. Before he was carried off, Fletch leaped away and onto the ground. The golden dog got to his paws and, seeing his companion fleeing, followed.

"Fletch!" Starlingthorn panted gratefully. "Thank you! Without you, we'd -"

"Lark!" Fletch called.

Lark appeared, the whites of her eyes showing in panic. Owltail was just beside her, his tail bushed and body shaking with his breathing. Fletch stalked over to them, and Starlingthorn's whiskers twitched. Fletch had ignored her entirely!

"Lark," Fletch repeated. He craned his neck to rub his sister's chin with his head. "Where have you _been?_ And who are these cats?"

"It's… a long story," Lark sighed.

Fletch lashed his tail. "You shouldn't have left," he growled, "and you shouldn't have brought them!"

Lark didn't flinch, but her eyes betrayed her hurt.

Starlingthorn stepped forward. "We're here to see Magpie," she meowed. _"I'm_ here to see him." She added with emphasis, hoping he wouldn't ignore her again.

Her hopes were dashed. Fletch's gaze passed right over her and landed on Owltail and Ashfur, who had padded over to join them at the commotion with the dogs. Fletch curled his lip and growled, "Let's get them back, then."

The small tabby tom led the way out of the fence and up the lavender hill, but Starlingthorn didn't follow immediately. She swallowed, her throat dry. Lark had warned her that things had changed, but Starlingthorn had never imagined Fletch just outright _ignoring_ her.

 _What's going on here?_ She wondered. _What's happened to my family?_

Over the lavender hill was an old barn. Starlingthorn ignored Owltail's disgruntled groan at the sight – to her, it wasn't just a Twoleg structure. To her it was an old home, calling out to her.

This old barn was in better condition than most, with only one hole in the roof that had been there since the beginning of time, it seemed. It was large, brown, and speckled with old paint that had long since been stripped by rain and time. It loomed before them, down the hill – Fletch led the way without pause, but Starlingthorn had to stop and look.

She sniffed the air. _It even smells different,_ she realized.

"Not quite the homecoming you imagined, is it?" Ashfur grunted as he passed, leaving no room for reply. Starlingthorn bit back a retort, knowing that she'd have to yell for him to hear – she didn't want every cat knowing that something was wrong here.

Sighing, Starlingthorn headed down the hill with the others. She caught up with Owltail, but no matter what she did she couldn't seem to catch up to Lark or Fletch. The two were padding close together, their heads low in conversation. From the tones, Starlingthorn could tell that Fletch was still upset with his sister.

It was only then that Starlingthorn noticed that Owltail was limping. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"I tore a claw," Owltail grunted, glowering at her as if he was insulted she dared to ask. "Those dogs ran me so ragged…"

"Get him to Gull," Fletch grunted, flicking his ears. He glared back at Owltail, then leered at Lark. "We'll continue this discussion later."

Fletch then separated himself from the group. They'd now come up close to the barn, which stood taller than most other Twoleg barns. The edges were lined with scent markers – Fletch's – and Fletch himself disappeared into a hole at the opposite end of the barn. Lark led them along the big, broad sides to the front, where doors that had once stood proud now hung at an awkward angle. Lark slipped in, and the others followed.

Starlingthorn swallowed as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. Inside, the barn was separated in almost half by a large wall. A path between the sections was made by a massive door that sat right in the middle, as big as two Twoleg monsters stacked on top of one another. Hay and straw were piled at every corner, and soft grasses were beneath the cats' paws. Some flowers grew here and there where the sunlight was most direct.

Wrinkling her nose, Starlingthorn realized that there were far more cats here than she'd known when she'd left. So many unfamiliar scents made her feel dizzy, despite being in a place she knew was safe.

 _Is it safe, though?_ She thought.

The Clan cats had their hackles raised as they padded after Lark – even Ashfur seemed unsettled. In this section of the barn there were few cats. In one corner was a white she-cat patched with gray, her fur sticking up in patches. The she-cats ears pricked as soon as Lark stepped close.

"Lark!" She whirled upon the group, rushing for the tabby she-cat. The patchy she-cat rubbed her entire body along Lark's, purring so loud it sounded like a Twoleg monster. Relief filled her voice: "Oh, Lark, you're back!"

"Gull," Lark purred back, "Gull, please…"

Starlingthorn twitched her ear. As if Gull could have heard it, the she-cat's attention snapped to Starlingthorn. Her eyes widened, big yellow suns of shock.

"You found her," she breathed.

Lark replied, "I did, yeah?"

Gull repeated, "Y-Yeah."

Starlingthorn purred, "Hello, Gull."

"Starling," Gull murmured. For a moment, Starlingthorn was worried Gull might be upset, but then the she cat rushed forward and pressed her muzzle against Starlingthorn's. "I'm so glad you came, yeah?" Gull breathed. "We missed you."

"I missed you, too," Starlingthorn admitted.

Gull pulled away, and for the first time Starlingthorn saw just how thin the she-cat was. Shock made Starlingthorn's eyes widen at the ribs glaring beneath Gull's patchy pelt, and Gull noticed. She stepped away from Starlingthorn's gaze and looked at the others.

"You must be Starling's friends, yeah?" Gull guessed. She didn't seem perturbed by the looks she was getting from Owltail and Ashfur. Gull sniffed, and determined, "I smell blood. Which one of ya is hurt?"

Neither cats spoke up. Starlingthorn sighed. She gestured to the toms and meowed, "These are Ashfur and Owltail, cats from the Clan I'm living in now. Owltail, the tabby, has a torn claw."

"Dogs?" guessed Gull.

"Dogs," Owltail grunted.

Gull shook her head and sighed, "Those beasts have been causing a real mess of trouble, yeah? I been treating torn claws almost every day!"

Owltail threw Starlingthorn a look. Starlingthorn nodded to him. "She's like a medicine cat," she offered. "Gull knows just about as much as one, and she's very gentle. She won't hurt you."

"Whatsit now?" Gull wondered, a curl in her lip. "What's a… medicine cat?" She narrowed her eyes at Starlingthorn. "Where have you _been,_ yeah?"

Starlingthorn frowned. "Not so far away as it seems," she replied.

Gull curled her tail. "Well, I'm sure I'll hear all about it, yeah? Let's get that claw treated, and make sure those dogs didn't do the rest of ya any harm."

She turned, and Lark pressed against her as they walked to Gull's corner. Starlingthorn's whiskers twitched in admiration of the couple – it was clear Lark and Gull were in a much better place than they had been when Starlingthorn had left.

Gull seemed to have her very own private spot for her herbs and remedies, all sorted in her own way. It reminded Starlingthorn of Mothwing's den back by the lake, though she knew that Gull's knowledge differed from Clan knowledge in some respects. Still, she kept herbs out to dry and the wooden slats of the barn made moss collecting far easier. Gull had her ways, and the medicine cats had their own.

The patchy she-cat led Owltail to this corner and bid him to stay. Owltail had no choice, grumbling, as Gull rifled through her stockpile and came out with a few leaves. Gull chewed them and spat the juices down onto Owltail's paw – all of which he accepted – but when Gull asked him to eat the remaining leaves himself, Owltail cringed.

"Why?" he growled. "We don't need to eat leaves for a torn claw at home!"

Gull's ears twitched. "I don't know how you do it where you come from, but I've learned that sometimes just spittin' the herbs onto the wound don't work all the time. Eating them too makes double sure your body gets rid of the infection, yeah?"

Owltail looked cross, but Starlingthorn gave him a nod. Reluctantly he swallowed the herbs. Lark twitched her whiskers in amusement, nudging Gull with a chuckle. Gull looked about to laugh, too, but a shape padding through a gap in the wall caught her eye.

Starlingthorn's eyes widened. Falcon seemed to have grown twice his former size since she'd seen him last, filling out at every possible angle. He was still young, but he was as big as any cat. The gray-and-white tom padded up to Gull, looking his sister in the eye.

"Whatcha want?" Gull wondered, tipping her head.

Falcon didn't seem interested in Lark, or the others. Instead, he meowed, "Herbs, something for Jingo's tail. She says it's hurting."

Gull's face fell. She sighed, "I suppose it was too good to hope we were done with that, yeah?" She flicked her tail at her pile. "Get what you need."

Falcon nodded and brushed past his sister. Starlingthorn tipped her head as Falcon gathered his herbs and left them alone. Confused, Starlingthorn looked to Gull.

"Who's Jingo?" she asked.

Gull flattened an ear. "One of the newcomers," she mewed. "I suppose you don't know, yeah? Jingo and her group – lot of friends, abandoned housecats and whatnot – were chased here by those dogs. One of 'em nipped off Jingo's tail, and it's been paining her ever since."

"How long have they been here?" Starlingthorn wondered.

"They came three days after you left," Lark answered. "Magpie let them stay, but when he got sick… Well, it was one less cat to help feed 'em, yeah?"

Starlingthorn narrowed her eyes. "So Fletch is running things, I'm guessing?" she mewed.

"Well, it would have been you," Gull reminded her gently, "but you ran off, yeah? Fletch… he had to do _something."_

Starlingthorn's throat went dry. She swallowed a hard lump at the thought. _I left because Magpie told me to!_ She wanted to screech. No, not with Ashfur and Owltail here – they would only think her crazy. _If Magpie hadn't told me to find Midnight, that my destiny lay there, I would be in Fletch's position…_

"There's not enough prey to go around," Lark told her. "Fletch has been doing his best, but he alone can't teach all these cats to hunt, yeah? We've been trying, but it's been really hard."

"You ran into Fletch 'round when he goes to see the housecats," Gull added, her voice quiet.

Starlingthorn frowned. "Why would he do that?" Magpie tried keeping their group as far away from Twolegs and kittypets as they could manage, to avoid being caught.

"Housecats have lots of food, yeah?" Gull went on, her tone tense. "And… and they're not so strong, you know? Fletch…"

"Your leader is _extorting_ kittypets?" Owltail spat, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Lark narrowed her eyes at him and snapped, "Food is food! There are a lot of cats here to feed, not enough who know how to hunt for themselves!" Her expression changed, turning more sorrowful than offended. She sighed and mewed, "Magpie is sick, and it all fell on Fletch to take care of everything. Jingo brought a lot of cats, and… and even if Gull hunted too there just aren't enough paws."

Starlingthorn gave Lark a sympathetic murmur. She understood Fletch's reasoning, on one paw – but on the other, she was furious with him. Extorting kittypets for food was _not_ something Magpie would have endorsed. There had to be some better way!

Lark shook her head. "Anyway," she meowed, "you came here to see Magpie, yeah? He's in the back. I'll take you."

Starlingthorn wanted to say more – there were so many questions buzzing in her mind – but Lark was on her paws. Instead, all she could manage was, "I need to speak with Fletch."

"We'll see," Lark offered. No promises in her voice – so Fletch _was_ upset at Starlingthorn.

Starlingthorn frowned and followed Lark. Her mind was buzzing like a hornet's nest, full of new information and too many questions to count. Whatever had happened here was no good, and part of Starlingthorn wished suddenly that she had ignored Magpie and stayed behind.


	16. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 _Lark led the way through_ the main body of the barn. Starlingthorn's eyes took in every detail – the big, square space she'd known was scattered with hay for comfort, with shoots of grass poking through here and there. Big piles of hay made up almost every corner, and there was a fresh-kill pile – perilously small – up against one sheltered wall, sprinkled with straw. There was a loft up above, but it was hard to reach – Starlingthorn recalled nearly falling on her way up more than once, since the ladder was missing a few steps.

There were more cats here than Starlingthorn had ever seen – whomever this Jingo was, her group had been large. Starlingthorn spotted Falcon sitting beside a tabby she-cat, dabbing herbs against her stumpy tail – Jingo, Starlingthorn guessed. _A brave cat,_ she thought, recalling how Jingo had lost her tail. _Risking herself for all these cats._

Lark led Starlingthorn to the very back of the barn. Starlingthorn tried to ignore the stares she got from the newcomers, keeping her tail low and her posture docile. She didn't want to appear threatening to these cats, who were clearly afraid themselves. All around, Starlingthorn saw hunger – the fresh-kill pile was low, ribs were showing, and cats seemed defensive, eying her with eyes like stone.

Starlingthorn swallowed. Lark mused, sensing her discomfort, "They're not bad, once you get to know them," she said over her shoulder. "Just tense, yeah?" Starlingthorn nodded in understanding – having seen those dogs herself, she knew just what they feared.

The corner of the barn where Magpie lay was quiet, dark, and shrouded. Starlingthorn had to halt her paws to take it in – no cat seemed to have touched this space for some time, and why would they? This was Magpie's place, where he slept and ate and talked and laughed – and now, it was where he lay dying.

She could barely look at him, this cat who had been like a father to her. The skinny, raven-black tom was lying on his side, his fur matted and patched and holding none of the sheen Starlingthorn had known him for. His eyes were open in slits, pale yellow orbs staring at nothing. His shallow, quick breaths were the only indication that he was even still alive – and when Lark murmured to her father comfortingly, the old tom tried to move.

Starlingthorn's throat went dry and her stomach lurched. The Magpie she'd known had been lean, not skinny. The Magpie she'd known had fur sleek as a feather, not matted into clumps. The Magpie she'd known could run and leap and spin in the air – he had never lain so still, even when he slept.

Magpie really _was_ dying.

"Starling is here, Father," Lark murmured. Lark's voice was tight, making it clear that seeing her father wasn't easy for her anymore. "She came here to see you, yeah?"

Magpie twitched, but could barely lift his head to acknowledge Lark. He rasped something, but his words were garbled and Starlingthorn couldn't make them out. Lark touched her muzzle to his forehead, sighing, and then she looked up at Starlingthorn.

"It might not seem like it, but he's happy to see you," Lark murmured, her voice breaking. She looked away from Starlingthorn, her tail flicking uncomfortably. "I… I need to go, yeah? Fletch. Fletch wants to see me… yeah."

Lark got up and padded off, brushing up against Starlingthorn. Starlingthorn felt the speed at which Lark left – she'd almost fled her father's sight. Starlingthorn swallowed a lump of emotion. It was so hard for Lark to manage seeing him – for Fletch, too, she guessed. No cat who had known Magpie for more than a day wanted to see him like this.

Still, Starlingthorn padded forward. She kept her steps light, soft, so as to not startle Magpie. She settled down beside him, laying her tail over his flanks. Beside her, he was shivering. Starlingthorn stared down at him, but he did not look back – his eyes stared at the walls of the barn, pale and possibly sightless.

"I'm here, Magpie," Starlingthorn murmured. She tried to keep her voice even. "I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner…"

Magpie shifted ever so slightly. He rasped, "… a shadow…"

Starlingthorn's ears pricked. Magpie went on: "Why… has this shadow come… to haunt me? My past… my shadows…" He coughed, an effort taken up by his entire body. When he lay still again, his voice was hard. "Go away."

"I'm no shadow," Starlingthorn insisted. _Has he truly forgotten me?_ Fear lanced through her. What if he didn't – couldn't – remember? "I'm Starlingth… _Starling._ It's me, Starling."

Magpie's head turned, just a little. His eye's flashed to her, stared a long moment, and then Magpie looked away. He let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "My mind… it escapes me, these days. Starling – yes, it's you. My Starling."

Starlingthorn, overcome with relief, licked the sickly tom between the ears. Magpie let out a rusty purr, but couldn't manage it long. He coughed, and Starlingthorn pulled away.

"Have you… gone to see it, yet?" Magpie wondered. "M-Midnight?"

Starlingthorn's ear flicked in confusion. "Yes," she meowed. "Almost a whole season ago, now."

Magpie started again. He hissed at himself, "Fool!" before grumbling to Starlingthorn, "I'm sorry… My mind… It is hard to recall things I've never truly forgotten." He took a deep, halting breath. "I shall try to do better. For you. Starling."

Starlingthorn and Magpie were silent – and then, Magpie murmured, "Tell me." He said. "Tell me what has happened to you, my Starling… tell me."

She hesitated for a moment. Would Magpie really benefit from knowing what had happened to her the past season? Would he even like to hear it? But, old habits die hard, and Starlingthorn found herself taking a deep breath before describing her journey to TigerClan, and all that had happened since. She didn't skip a moment, knowing that Magpie wanted – needed – to know all of it.

"… and then Lark brought us – me – here," Starlingthorn finished, her throat sore despite talking so quietly. "To see you." She shuffled her paws as Magpie's silence grew. "Magpie… what was even the point to all this? TigerClan… I don't think anything can save that place from them."

Magpie sighed. "Sometimes, help must come from the outside," he rasped to her.

Starlingthorn frowned, waiting for him to say more – but Magpie was silent. Perhaps he hadn't the energy to say more? Starlingthorn was unsure. But while she had his attention, she asked, "Do you… do you know what Fletch is up to? What's he's been doing?"

Magpie nodded weakly. "I am dying, but not deaf…" he meowed. "My son is trying his best… I regret that he is not as compassionate as you or Lark." Magpie gave a heavy sigh. "I wish… I wish now that I had not told you of Midnight. Things… things might be better, then."

Starlingthorn's eyes widened. "Fletch is your son!" she breathed. "Yet you talk about him like he's…"

Magpie rambled on, interrupting Starlingthorn: "Lark didn't want to, she said. It scares her, leading… And you, you were gone. Off on your mission, off to your destiny… Fletch wanted it. He wanted it too much, and now…" He breathed. "Starling listened. Starling always listened. Always knew how to teach, too. Compassionate, but reasonable."

Starlingthorn frowned, realizing that Magpie was rambling as if she was not there – as if she wasn't pressed against him.

"But oh," Magpie sighed. "She's gone. Gone to save the stars who need her more than I…" He shuddered, his eyes glazing over – and suddenly, it seemed like he was speaking to Starlingthorn again. "If Fletch isn't careful… I did not run over the mountains from a tyrant to see my own son become one as well…!"

Magpie coughed, then laid his head down. As if the effort of talking had taken everything from him, his eyes closed. His breathing slowed, and suddenly, Starlingthorn realized, he was asleep. Gently, Starlingthorn lifted herself up and over him – though she guessed he wouldn't have noticed if she'd rolled him over.

Mouth dry, Starlingthorn shook straw from her pelt and turned around. She would get nothing out of waking Magpie from sleep he needed – so she searched the crowd of cats for Lark. The tabby was standing with her brother and, though Fletch was shorter, it seemed like she was being dwarfed by him.

Starlingthorn sighed and started towards the siblings.

As if Fletch could sense her somehow, he broke off his conversation with Lark and spun to face Starlingthorn. His eyes were narrowed, his hackle high in a threatening posture that stunned Starlingthorn. Fletch had always been an aggressive cat, but never this way. _What's happened to make you full of so much hate?_

" _You,"_ he growled.

 _At least he's talking to me, now,_ Starlingthorn thought.

Fletch went on, "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I came to see Magpie," Starlingthorn answered. "Lark brought me, told me what was going on."

Fletch's eyes flashed. "Well, you've seen him, yeah?" he snapped. "Now take those strangers and _go."_

Starlingthorn's eyes widened, and Lark's chest fur fluffed. Lark snapped, "She doesn't have to go just yet, yeah? Starling's got the right to stay a while!" Fletch didn't acknowledge her, but he seemed to bristle even more, if it were somehow possible. Lark sighed and added, "They got chased by those dogs, Fletch – give 'em time to rest, at least!"

Fletch rounded on Lark and snapped, "That was their own fault!" He paused, then growled, "Or yours, for bringing them here."

Starlingthorn's neck fur rose. "Now that's too far -"

"I want them _gone,"_ Fletch growled, ignoring Starlingthorn. He glowered at Lark. "We have enough mouths to feed already, without theirs. There are too many strangers here already, yeah?"

"I'm no stranger!" Starlingthorn burst.

Fletch's eyes slid to her. They were cold, angry. He growled, "You've been _gone,_ Starling. Things don't work the same way as they did when you were here, yeah?"

Starlingthorn squared her shoulders. She reasoned, "I haven't been gone _that_ long."

"You were gone long enough to abandon us when we needed you," Fletch snapped. "Don't think I'm like Father – I won't just roll over for you, no matter what you do, yeah? You showed us all just how _grateful_ you were to Magpie!"

Starlingthorn was stunned.

"Magpie wanted _you_ to handle things," Fletch snapped. "But _you_ were gone, yeah? So it fell to _me._ Jingo's group needs me to be stronger than Magpie ever was – than _you_ could ever be." Fletch's entire body was bristling with hostility. "Don't try worming your way in now to make yourself seem like the better cat here, Starling. Like you've always done, yeah? _I'm_ the leader now, and you and your companions are leaving as soon as possible."

"One of them is hurt, Fletch!" Lark pointed out, exasperated. Her tail was bristling. "You can't just send them off – they'd never outrun the dogs."

Fletch seethed in frustration. Then, he spat, "One day – no more!" before turning away. Starlingthorn watched him stalk off, stiff-legged, out of the barn entirely.

Starlingthorn looked at Lark, who sagged with relief. Lark looked at Starlingthorn sympathetically. "It's made it so hard," she reasoned. "Fletch being leader, I mean. It's really hard for him to be happy anymore, yeah? He's trying his best, but… he had no idea what he was getting into."

"He's changed," Starlingthorn breathed.

Lark nodded.

Starlingthorn frowned. "Lark, you _know_ Magpie would have rather had you or Gull take over, not Fletch. Why did you let it happen?"

Lark trembled. "It all happened so fast," she murmured. "Fletch took charge when I didn't know what to do, yeah? Until now he's been frustrated, but never too bad." She shuffled her paws. "He's really not happy that you're here. When you leave, things will go back to normal, yeah?"

 _Am I really such a threat?_ Starlingthorn wondered. Part of her wanted to pick up and leave right now – but for Owltail's sake, she couldn't… and for Magpie's sake, Starlingthorn knew she needed to find a way to help these cats with their prey problem. How could she do that in just a day?

"I couldn't let Father go without seeing you," Lark meowed quietly. "He… he loved you, yeah? He loved all of us."

Starlingthorn's head was spinning: Magpie, the cat she'd looked up to and loved and idolized… dying. Fletch, swamped with responsibility and determined to make things harder for himself now that Starlingthorn was here. He had so much to deal with – far more than Magpie had had to handle, and the shadow of his father was hard to escape.

Part of Starlingthorn wished she had never come at all.


	17. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

" _Hey, you."_

Starlingthorn's paws were planted on the straw-strewn ground, stiffened by her thoughts. She was trembling, just a little. This whole situation felt so much worse than what she faced in TigerClan – it killed Starlingthorn inside to see her family turned into such different cats.

"Hey!"

Starlingthorn's mouth was dry. Fletch hated her. _Hated_ her. Had her leaving really been so hard? They had been close, but… Fletch had always been the type to act like he didn't care much about anything but himself. He and Starlingthorn had gotten into plenty of fights over his bullheadedness. _Did I really act so high-and-mighty?_

"Are you deaf?"

And Lark, poor Lark… watching her father die was one thing, but not even Gull could help her through what was happening to her brother. Fletch and Lark had always been so close, and though they'd had their rivalries, Fletch had never been so aggressive towards his sister. Was the pressure really that much? _Would I have been able to handle things better?_

Starlingthorn was brought out of her thoughts when a sharp pain in her ear caused her to life her head. Before her was a stocky tabby she-cat, with one paw raised to box her again if need be. Starlingthorn's eyes widened, and she took a step back on shaking paws. She fell onto her haunches in surprise. The tabby she-cat had almost no tail.

 _Jingo._

"So, you might not be deaf," Jingo decided. She lowered her paw. "You looked really deep in thought there. Sorry to disturb you, I was just wondering what was going on."

Starlingthorn's throat was dry, then she managed, "I-I'm Starlingthorn."

Jingo wrinkled her nose. "Funny name," she grunted. "I'm Jingo."

Starlingthorn nodded in understanding. "Everything's all right, Jingo," she sighed. "We'll be out of here tomorrow. I just came to see Magpie."

"One of his, eh?" Jingo guessed. She glanced over at the sickly tom, her gaze softening. "He was so kind… I wish he hadn't gotten sick so soon after we'd arrived. I'd have liked to get to know him better."

Starlingthorn meowed somberly, "He'd like to have known you, too." She shifted on her paws. She didn't want to be on this subject anymore. "Where did you and yours come from?"

Jingo flicked an ear. "There's a neighborhood not far beyond the farm," she replied tautly. "We all come from there." She angled her head at Starlingthorn. "Your pelt doesn't look wild. Housecat?"

"Formerly," Starlingthorn answered. To the trained eye a pelt like Starlingthorn's – with its strange spotting and lighter underbelly – would appear to be out of the ordinary amongst wildcats. "My mother and father bred to make cats that looked like me."

Jingo frowned at that. "Your coat is pretty enough," she surmised. "I can't imagine any cat wanting to do something like that, though."

Starlingthorn shrugged. "It made their housefolk happy," she mewed. "That's all they wanted… But I… I wasn't meant to be a housecat."

Jingo nodded, as if she didn't want to pry. Starlingthorn didn't want her to. _This cat isn't Squirrelflight – I barely know her. There's no reason to be giving out my life's story._ Starlingthorn asked, "How did your group get here?"

"Those dogs," Jingo growled sourly. Her muzzle wrinkled. "We couldn't stay where we were at, but leaving was just as dangerous, too. Dogs everywhere, and none of them liking cats. We thought beyond the neighborhood we'd be safe, but…"

"Those dogs never liked cats," Starlingthorn assured Jingo. "It wasn't you who started that."

Jingo sighed. "We were so grateful when Fletch came to help," she meowed. "Those beasts had us cornered, but he and his sister scared them off like they've been doing it their whole lives. They brought us here and Magpie said we could stay as long as we liked – the dogs ran us ragged, took off half my tail, and nearly killed Hussar, too. We had no choice but to stay."

Starlingthorn glanced at the stump of Jingo's tail. It was clearly not natural, and still healing at that. A spot bald of fur, reddened with her wound and laced with cobweb and herbs. Even Jingo's breath smelled of herbs – even after all this time, she was still healing.

"What was he like?" Jingo wondered, "Magpie, I mean."

"Kind," Starlingthorn answered, glancing back at the tom. "Fair, too. Like a father to me. He taught me everything I know – how to hunt, how to fight…" She shut her jaws.

Jingo flicked her ears questioningly, but Starlingthorn was looking past her. Just beyond the cats, near the wall that divided the barn, was Ashfur… and Fletch.

The two were sitting together, tails over paws, staring at the cats settled in the barn. Once in a while, they would say something to one another, but Starlingthorn couldn't tell what it was… and it was clear they were making an effort to hide what they were saying. Starlingthorn stiffened.

 _What in the world would_ they _have to say to one another?_

Just then, Ashfur's eyes locked with hers – and Starlingthorn looked away. She already had Ashfur breathing down her neck – she didn't need him doing it even more. She wished Hawkstar hadn't made him come here at all.

Jingo was not unaware of the exchange. She flicked her stump of a tail. "Weird one, he is," she grumbled. "Reminds me of… someone I don't want to remember."

Starlingthorn frowned. She knew better than to ask.

"Be careful around that type," Jingo decided. Her eyes were narrowed, dark with memories. "They never bring anything good to your door."

* * *

The mouse at Squirrelflight's paws was shriveled, thin – smaller than anything she knew could be found, even in leaf-bare. Her stomach roiled at its faint crow-food smell. The mouse wasn't quite inedible yet, but it was getting there, out here in the baking sunshine.

Voletooth grimaced at her. "If you won't eat it, I'll give it to someone who needs it more," he growled distastefully.

Squirrelflght drew the mouse towards her protectively. The drought had severely crippled hunting, and she was grateful to StarClan that they were still even considering feeding her. She was not going to let Voletooth take her only meal today out of spite. To her satisfaction, Voletooth curled his lip and stalked away.

Hawkstar had started the rationing preemptively – it was clear that until the drought ended, prey was going to be harder to come by. With the lake receding and fish dying and drying up in the heat, hunters were now expected to come back with more land-prey than before. Stores had been dug in the cool earth near the dried-up streams that divided the camp, and what little that could be caught was sheltered there, guarded by Hawkstar's most loyal. Prey was distributed to the ones who needed it most before those who didn't – which meant Squirrelflight was left with the last dregs, too scrawny for even apprentices or elders.

She poked the mouse and sighed. Was the possibility of a sour belly worth it? The mouse wasn't crow-food quite yet, but it was definitely old. She sniffed again. There was no way she would be able to get Mothwing or Willowshine to give her their opinion, not when they were busy finding water and herbs to keep up the Clan's strength.

Squirrelflight sighed and took a bite. To her slight pleasure, the mouse only _smelled_ sour – it was only stale. She ate what was there, which was not much. The mouse was thin and stringy, with little meat – yet it filled her as if she'd eaten a hawk. Squirrelflight always found it strange how quickly a warriors' stomach grew accustomed to such small meals.

She pushed away the remains and stretched herself out, letting the hot sun warm her dark ginger pelt. She stretched her leg a little and grimaced – the pain was not so bad as it had been, and she could walk with nothing but a little limp to show for her weakness. She would heal, but not if she kept pestering Hawkstar's cronies.

 _Starlingthorn isn't here to protect you,_ chuckled the dark voice inside. Squirrelflight was tired of its mocking, but it came, again and again. _She'll never come back._

 _Stuff it, please,_ she sighed to herself. She didn't like that there was a part of her she couldn't quash with her determination, that there was a part of her that just wanted to give up. _I will not die here._

Squirrelflight stared out at the camp. It seemed just as bustling as before Starlingthorn left, but Squirrelflight missed her friend's dark shape amidst the crowds. One shape she was not sad to see gone was Ashfur's – the gray cat followed you around like a shadow, listening and whispering into Hawkstar's ear. Squirrelflight dug her claws into the dry earth at the thought of him, so cold and certain.

 _If I ever get my claws on him…_ Images of Ashfur tightening the fox trap around Firestar's neck flashed into her mind. _I will make sure he wishes he were never kitted!_

"What are you growling at?" sneered Voletooth.

Squirrelflight bit back a sharp retort. Voletooth was leering at her, his eyes narrowed into slits. Squirrelflight stared back, but said nothing – with the heat and the lack of prey, tempers in TigerClan were shorter than usual. Squirrelflight was lucky, she knew, to not be on the other side of some of the tantrums in the Clan.

"That's what I thought," her guard grunted, then turned away.

Squirrelflight sighed quietly with relief. She hated this, having to stay on her toes so as to not offend. It was something she'd never had to worry about in ThunderClan – she could speak her mind and then some and cats would listen, whether she was Firestar's daughter or the kit of the most violent rogue. She missed that.

The Clan, up to normal Clan business, halted as Hawkstar appeared. The tabby tom slunk out of the willow log that was his den, looked about the Clan, and then leaped onto the log itself. He called no meeting, but when he settled in the shade the Clan got back to its business, now under Hawkstar's pale gaze.

Squirrelflight narrowed her eyes. _Now, what's brought TigerClan's great leader out of the shade?_ He looked fitter than his Clan, stuffed with the privilege of being fed first, before the queens or the medicine cat. "A Clan leader must keep strong, for his Clan," he'd reasoned, "and he cannot do so when he's starving."

 _Lazy piece of fox-dung,_ Squirrelflight growled to herself. _What a –_

A flash of gold cut her off. Mothwing appeared, padding delicately over the dry streambed that separated her den from the rest of the camp. She approached Hawkstar, her dappled golden pelt rippling in the sunlight. Though she met his eyes, Squirrelflight knew it was not out of respect.

"Hawkstar," she meowed curtly. "We need to talk."

Squirrelflight angled her ears towards the conversation. Having her prison be the trunk which had once bore the weight of Hawkstar's own den had its perks – it was situated near Hawkstar's den, where he called meetings and met in private with his important warriors. Since the cats were not strong enough to uproot Squirrelflight's den, and there was no room to make another, Squirrelflight was always just within earshot – not that TigerClan viewed her as much of a threat in the first place.

"Yes?" Hawkstar wondered, looking down at his sister.

Mothwing kinked her plumy tail. "The streams here have dried, and the lakewater isn't safe to drink with all the dead fish in it," she meowed. "The smaller streams have dried as well, and the marsh isn't safe to drink from, either. We have nowhere for fresh water."

Hawkstar's ears pricked, but he gave no more indication that he was shocked. Squirrelflight, on the other paw, was stunned – not only was their no water on the territory, but was Hawkstar really allowing this conversation to take place in full earshot of the Clan?

"Well?" Mothwing wondered. "What should we do?"

"You must be mistaken," Hawkstar guessed. "There's fresh water _somewhere_ on our land."

Mothwing shook her head. "Willowshine and I have scoured every inch, Hawkstar. We -"

"You must not have looked _hard_ enough," Hawkstar growled, cutting her off. Mothwing did not flinch, but her eyes betrayed her uncertainty. Hawkstar flicked his tail towards the warrior's den, where a group of warriors were gathered. Two approached at his summons – Beechfur and Icewing. "You and Willowshine will take one of them and split the territory between yourselves. Do not come back until you've found a source of water. Is that understood?"

Mothwing's eyes widened. "Hawkstar," she sputtered, "w-what if some cat gets hurt, or -"

Hawkstar's eyes narrowed. "You'd best _hurry_ , then, shouldn't you?"

Mothwing bristled, and even Icewing and Beechfur looked stunned – but the three almost bolted to the medicine cat's den. In a moment they'd collected Willowshine and left, trying to keep their pace slow but Squirrelflight knew that they were trotting as fast as possible. Little Redkit stood at the entrance to the medicine cat's den, watching them go, his eyes wide in wonder and confusion.

"Hawkstar, is that true?" wondered Graymist. Her belly was round, and she'd been sunning near the medicine cat's den. She pushed herself to her paws, asking, "Is there really no water on our territory?"

At her question, a ripple of concern flowed through the whole Clan. Squirrelflight could see worry in some eyes, anger in some others. Mutterings and murmurings flooded the air like the sound of bees in a hive. Hawkstar wrapped his tail around his paws as all eyes turned on him – even Squirrelflight, who was curious as to how he would reassure his Clan in this dire situation.

"I sent out a patrol to look," Hawkstar assured them.

"What if they don't find anything?" asked Mosspelt. "What are we going to do, if we can't even drink from the lake?"

"The biggest streams are on LionClan's side," grunted Rowanclaw. "There's no getting to them without causing a fight, and they certainly won't share."

"TigerClan doesn't _share,"_ sneered Pouncetail, his patched tail bristling. His claws were unsheathed. "We _take._ Right?"

The Clan growled in agreement. Squirrelflight's stomach turned, and not from the mouse. Mews of concern were turning to calls for battle, for stealing LionClan's streams. _Surely Hawkstar knows that if the Clan extends that far, they're doomed? They can't hardly patrol or hunt as it is, with no camp in the pines!_ If Hawkstar wasn't careful, this could spell the end of his utopia.

"Enough," snapped Hawkstar. The Clan quieted under his tone. He eyed them all, and meowed, "Our water situation is going to be taken care of. There is no cause to start a panic… or an unnecessary fight."

"Unnecessary?" scoffed Pouncetail. "LionClan beat one of our patrols in a fight! Their arrogance is going to make them think they can take our territory next!"

"Do you wish to share in Smokefoot's punishment, Pouncetail?" Hawkstar sneered. He curled his lip. "The elders could always use a helping paw, and I could always do without a nagging fool in my ear for a while."

Pouncetail shut his jaws.

"The water situation will be taken care of," Hawkstar told the Clan. "This drought cannot – will not – last forever."

"And what of the camp in the pines?" wondered Tawnypelt. "You can't presume to feed us all on so little territory, and covering that much ground for a hunting patrol is madness. If we keep doing things this way, we'll all drop dead from exhaustion!"

Hawkstar narrowed his eyes into slits. "These issues will all be taken care of," he growled. "Do you think I cannot lead, or provide for you?"

The entire Clan, almost in unison, agreed Hawkstar could indeed lead and provide.

Hawkstar nodded. "Then allow me to do things _my_ way," he meowed evenly. "You will see – in the end, TigerClan will come out on top. Winning wars is never easy – there are always rough spots to go through before the triumph in the end." He raised his voice: "TigerClan _will_ prevail!"

" _TigerClan! TigerClan!"_ hurrahed the Clan.

The impromptu meeting seemed to be over. Hawkstar leaped off of his log and padded to his den as the Clan dispersed. Squirrelflight watched him pad slowly, confidently, around the log – and then he stopped, and met her eyes with his own.

For a long moment, ice-blue eyes bored into green – Squirrelflight refused to back down, and Hawkstar seemed to think the same. Then, Hawkstar sneered and padded away, slipping into his den. Squirrelflight exhaled, as if she'd been underwater for a long time.

 _Starlingthorn's not here to smooth out his claws,_ her dark voice chuckled. _That means_ you're _an easier target than ever before… or had you forgotten? When the Clan begins to starve in the drought, who will they blame – Hawkstar, or the extra mouth they needn't feed?_

Squirrelflight swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. For once… she feared the voice was right.

 _StarClan, help me…_ she thought. _What am I going to do?_


	18. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

 _Outside the sky gave way_ to evening's colors. The stars were beginning to pop out against the paleness, and the sun was setting over the sun-drown-place. Starlingthorn sat just outside the barn, looking up at the sky. There was barely a cloud, and even in this evening the world seemed wrapped in intense heat. She'd thought that being here would be an escape from the drought, but it seemed the drought had followed their paws.

 _I don't want to bring misfortune to these cats,_ Starlingthorn thought. She shifted her paws. _They seem to have enough already._ Perhaps it was a good thing that they were leaving in the morning. Fletch certainly didn't want them there, and he made it known.

"Are you coming in to eat?" Lark wondered, padding out into the sunset. She settled beside Starlingthorn, their pelts just brushing. "Or are you going to stare at the stars, like you and Magpie always did?"

Starlingthorn frowned. She missed those nights, staying up with Magpie to count the brilliant points of light. They spoke to Magpie sometimes, he'd claimed, told him that he would have a happy family and a long life of helping others. That Starlingthorn had a destiny. Bitterness rose in her throat, and Starlingthorn looked down at her paws.

"Is Fletch going to let us eat, even?" she wondered.

Lark meowed, "He's still talking to that Ashfur guy. I think you can sneak a mouse, yeah?"

Starlingthorn blinked in surprise, looking at Lark. _"Still?"_ she repeated. Fletch and Ashfur had been talking since Starlingthorn had met Jingo – she'd thought they'd stopped long ago. The fact that the two were still speaking was unsettling.

Lark nodded, not noticing Starlingthorn's shock. "He's not even eating with Speckle, and those two have been inseparable since Jingo's group got here, yeah?" she breathed. Lark glanced back into the barn. "I wonder what they're talking about?"

"Nothing good," Starlingthorn growled.

Lark flicked an ear. "Ya know, for being a Clan cat, you don't seem to like your Clan," she pointed out. "You told me that there's somethin' weird going on with them, but what is it, yeah? Are you in danger?"

Starlingthorn frowned. She didn't want to get into it with Lark – her mission, her purpose, and the complexity of it all… somehow, that only seemed fine to share with Magpie. All she meowed was, "Everything is as fine as it can get, but I don't like it when Ashfur talks to _anyone."_ _Who knows what information he's getting from Fletch?_ Fletch didn't know why Starlingthorn left the barn, but he would know enough about Starlingthorn to give Ashfur a few pointers.

He stomach roiled in thought, but Lark motioned for them to go inside. Starlingthorn followed, though reluctantly. She felt much safer outside the barn than she did inside at the moment.

It was a little cooler inside, despite the amount of cats. All were gathered up to split amongst them what little food they had, thanks to the drought and the dogs. A quick sweep of the area showed that Lark was right – Fletch and Ashfur were off to the side, talking quietly. Neither seemed to be paying anyone else much attention.

Off to the other side was Owltail, looking awkward and hungry. He limped over reluctantly, grumbling, when Starlingthorn motioned. "How's your paw?" Starlingthorn asked as he joined them.

"Better," Owltail grumbled in reply. He kept his head low, his eyes darting around at the other cats. "I'm starving, though."

"We'll feed you," Lark promised.

Owltail looked offended. His tail lashed, and he muttered, "I'd rather catch it myself."

"Good luck, then," Lark chuckled. "See if you can outrun those dogs a second time, yeah?"

Owltail said nothing more. Lark led them to the meager fresh-kill pile, and stood by as the Clan cats picked their shares – a scrawny mouse for Starlingthorn, and a shrew for Owltail. Lark picked out a thrush, and the three went to join the others as they ate.

Jingo's group regarded the strangers with hostility, but none of them were too open about it. Only Jingo gave Starlingthorn a nod of acknowledgement that could have passed for friendship, but she didn't move to join them. One she-cat, a flecked brown tabby, glowered openly at Starlingthorn.

"That's Speckle," Lark offered as they settled down, just away from the others. Turning her thrush between her paws, she added, "She's moony as a rabbit for Fletch. They're _that_ kind of couple: his opinion is her opinion, yeah?"

Starlingthorn glanced at the she-cat. She looked too soft for Fletch, but perhaps his tastes had changed. _Hawkstar may be my mate, but his opinions certainly don't coincide with mine,_ she thought, and she sighed. Despite it all, she missed Hawkstar's companionship.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Owltail wondered.

Starlingthorn didn't need to ask who he was talking about – Ashfur and Fletch. Starlingthorn sighed again, though this time in frustration. She replied, "No idea."

"It can't be good," Owltail grunted. He looked at Starlingthorn, his eyes flashing. "Ashfur talking isn't a good thing."

Starlingthorn nodded in agreement. The entire Clan seemed in agreement that Ashfur was bad news. He was Hawkstar's eyes and ears in the worst way, and TigerClan knew that if Ashfur was sent for you, it meant nothing good was going to come your way. He was known as the cat who had killed Firestar, the one who struck the final blow and betrayed his Clan in doing so. Blood ran from Ashfur's paws, it was certain.

So what was he doing with Fletch?

The cats ate, but Starlingthorn's worrying made the meal taste less than ideal. Gull joined them partway through, sharing with Lark as Starlingthorn asked them what they'd been up to since she'd been gone – the answer, however, was not much more than expected. When the meal was over it was the Clan cat's turn to talk – as they shared tongues, Lark and Gull questioned them about Clans and how they lived. Owltail was reluctant to answer, but Starlingthorn was forthcoming with the basics.

"It doesn't sound much different than how we work here," Lark noted when most of the questioning was done. "We don't believe in a StarClan, yeah? But you guys are more organized than we are in some ways!"

Starlingthorn nodded in agreement. "I was stunned at how many customs we and the Clans shared," she went on. "The Clans separate duties more, though."

"Yeah, that's a little odd," Owltail muttered. He looked stiff beneath Gull's careful tongue, but he wouldn't tell her to stop. "You guys are almost like a Clan yourselves."

"Magpie says he got most of it from where he'd come from," Lark told them. She glanced at Starlingthorn and went on, "He came here from a Twolegplace over the mountains."

Owltail pricked his ears. "Really?" he wondered. "Did he… Did he ever get any more specific than that?"

Lark tipped her head, as if Owltail's sudden interest confused her. It certainly confused Starlingthorn – Owltail hadn't seemed at all interested in what they'd been talking about before. Lark offered, "He'd never say, yeah? He just said it was over the mountains, and that he wasn't going back."

 _He'd run from a tyrant,_ Starlingthorn almost added, but he cut herself off. Owltail didn't seem to notice – he laid his head back down and closed his eyes under Gull's rhythmic tongue. Magpie's words had seemed to come from madness, but Starlingthorn knew better. Magpie had run here over the mountains from something, some _one,_ but Starlingthorn knew that they'd never find out the whole story.

Starlingthorn looked over to Magpie. She said a polite good bye to her friends before getting to her paws and padding over to him. The black tom looked so lonely over there, all alone in the corner. Starlingthorn ignored Fletch's eyes glaring at her, following her every motion as she laid down beside his father and began to groom between his ears.

Someone had attempted to feed Magpie, but it was clear he couldn't do much himself. Starlingthorn's heart clenched at the sight of the untouched prey, and she pushed it away. Some other cat could have it, if they weren't worried about catching Magpie's sickness. Starlingthorn continued her grooming, feeling Magpie's stomach rise and fall slowly, so slowly. He was sleeping.

And then, with a sudden start, Magpie jerked awake, his entire body convulsing. Starlingthorn pulled away, shocked. Magpie eventually settled, his breathing returning to its slow, unhealthy pace.

"S-Starling," he rasped, calling for her. "M-My Starling, my Starling…"

"I'm here," Starlingthorn insisted. She bent down beside him, pressing her muzzle into his pelt. "I'm here, Magpie," she breathed. "What is it?"

Magpie seemed to notice her, but he gave no real acknowledgement. His paws worked at the moss beneath him, his claws snagging in it without a care. He swallowed, hard, and then mewled, "My Starling, m-my Starling… please… Please, save these cats… Save them all!"

Starlingthorn's heart beat in her ears.

"The stars…" Magpie croaked, "I saw them… I saw them, a-and heard them, and they…" he gasped. "They said… My Starling, oh, my Starling… save them…"

"Save them from what?" Starlingthorn wondered. _You're making no sense!_

"M-Midnight… said…" Magpie breathed. His voice flowed into a whisper, and Magpie's eyes slid closed again. Starlingthorn sat beside him, stunned, as Magpie flowed effortlessly back into his fitful slumber. She rested a paw on his flank, gently, like a leaf, and trembled.

 _Save them…_ she thought. _What could that mean? Magpie, what did Midnight say to you, and… and what am I saving them from?_

She gave a quick look around – it seemed that no cat had noticed Magpie's outburst. In fact, Fletch and Ashfur had finally stopped talking. The two were standing in the center of the barn, side-by-side, looking out over the cats. When Speckle noticed this, she let out a hiss for everyone to be quiet – she looked at Fletch with shining eyes while the others stopped eating and pricked their ears.

"Everyone," Fletch began, stepping forward, "I have an announcement!" Starlingthorn saw how confident her was, how tall he carried himself despite being the smallest cat under the barn's roof. His tail and head were held high, his eyes shining.

"As you all know," he went on, "we were visited today by three strangers. These cats have not come to harm us – in fact, they have come to offer us something we so desperately need!"

Starlingthorn's stomach twisted, and she looked at Ashfur. To her horror, the tom was staring directly at her, his blue eyes vacant but a look of smug satisfaction on his face.

"Where these cats come from, there is prey aplenty despite the drought," Fletch meowed, "and space! Space enough for all of us. These cats have come to offer us a place within their Clan's territory – where we can hunt and live in peace, away from dogs and sickness!"

Starlingthorn opened her jaws, but she was drowned out by peals of joy from Jingo's group. Between the cats' hopeful faces, Starlingthorn saw Lark, Gull and Owltail – all three staring at Fletch with eyes wide in shock.

 _This is_ not _what we came here for!_ Starlingthorn thought, panic welling up in her gut.

"This sounds too good to be true," Jingo cut in. She stepped forward. "How can we trust these strangers so outright?"

"Starling once lived here," Fletch meowed. "And look how fit and strong she is, yeah? She brought these cats here to help us, Jingo. To help _all_ of us!"

Starlingthorn's eyes widened. _No, I didn't!_ she screeched inwardly. _I just came to see Magpie!_

"What about Magpie?" Lark wondered. Her eyes were wide with worry. "He can't move so well, Fletch – he can't travel that kind of distance so suddenly!"

"We'll take it slow," Fletch answered. "There's no rush yet – and Ashfur here can get us safely around the dogs. They have cats where they're from who are dedicated to medicine, their whole lives! They may know something to help Magpie that we haven't yet tried."

Lark's eyes were wide, and she met Starlingthorn's own eyes. Starlingthorn had no idea what to do or say – she'd had nothing to do with this; it was clearly Ashfur's doing! Jingo's group seemed more than happy to leave the barn and the dogs behind, though, and even Jingo was nodding along with the others.

"When are we leaving?" asked Speckle, her voice sweet and full of support.

"Tomorrow evening," Fletch answered. He called to them, "Gather your things, everyone – tomorrow we move for a newer, better, home!"

The group cheered and cheered. Starlingthorn felt Ashfur's gaze on her – had this all been planned somehow? How? Starlingthorn turned to Magpie – and they wanted to _move_ him to TigerClan? _Magpie, oh Magpie…_ she thought.

 _I really shouldn't have come at all!_


	19. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

 _Robinpaw woke, sore. His ears_ were ringing just as well as his body ached, buffeted by Silverhawk's sharp words and claws. His nightly mentor was rough, rougher than Robinpaw knew any mentor was in the waking world. He swallowed, his mouth dry. Though he placed little faith in Starlingthorn's words now that he knew she was TigerClan, he couldn't help but feel in his gut that perhaps things were _not_ as they seemed in those woods.

 _You can move the woods,_ she'd said. _You shouldn't be able to._ He'd seen the shock on her face, raw and genuine. _You should try going someplace. Someplace_ you _want to go…_ Robinpaw didn't know whether or not to trust her judgment. That place was dark and dank and perilous…

 _But don't I want to see more?_ Robinpaw wondered. _Don't I want to know whether or not she's right?_

He shook his head of the thoughts. He'd slept too long already and he could hear the medicine cat's den and the camp alike bustling with activity in the early morning. Robinpaw sat up and gave himself a quick wash, trying to recall what it was he was supposed to be doing today.

With dismay, he realized that Leafpool had forgotten to assign him proper duties. He flicked an ear, listening – Leafpool was not in the den at the moment. It was just Kestrelpaw, and he was walking Cinderpaw through her morning stretches.

 _Leafpool's been so busy,_ he thought. _She must have forgotten._ His mother being the only medicine cat was clearly a strain. Hopefully something was figured out soon.

"Did you hear, Robinpaw?" Cinderpaw chirped, as soon as Robinpaw stepped out of his nest. "There's going to be a Gathering!"

Robinpaw pricked his ears. Kestrelpaw sighed and meowed, "Of _course_ he knows – it was _his_ idea, Cinderpaw!"

"I know!" Cinderpaw admitted. Her tone did not falter. "I just wanted him to know!" She seemed happy and carefree; a lot like the old Cinderpaw had been.

"So they're going along with it?" Robinpaw guessed. He'd known that Bramblestar and Onestar had taken his thought to heart, but he didn't expect any sort of answer so soon.

"Yeah," Kestrelpaw replied. His paws were busy with something – moss, probably. They were always working on moss. "Cloudtail and Ashfoot were given the OK to start spreading the news."

"Any idea when it will be?"

"Any night now, it sounds like!" Cinderpaw mewed. Robinpaw could imagine her fur fluffed up in surprise. "The moon was almost completely full last night!"

"It's good that we still get to have a Gathering," Kestrelpaw decided. "We can't let TigerClan keep taking good things away from us."

Robinpaw nodded in agreement, and Cinderpaw made a noise of assent. When Robinpaw asked what there was to do today, Kestrelpaw only meowed, "No idea; Leafpool is out getting herbs. She never said what she needed us to do. I'm going to watch Cinderpaw swim today."

"I suppose I'll check on the Clan, then," Robinpaw grumbled. He wished Leafpool had stayed around to tell them what they needed to do, but perhaps his mother simply needed a moment to herself. Leafpool had always found solace in collecting herbs. _Seems like we've collected a lot of herbs in the past moon. The territory is probably barren!_

"As far as I know, everyone's fine," Kestrelpaw offered. "But go, if you'd like."

Robinpaw frowned and turned away. He could eat later – the Clan needed checking on. But did Kestrelpaw have to sound like a mentor himself? They were only a moon apart! Sighing heavily, Robinpaw left the den.

* * *

It was sunhigh by the time Robinpaw was done looking through the camp – but no one seemed to need him. Robinpaw settled himself before the medicine cat's den, in the baking sun, with the remains of his meal between his paws. He'd just finished eating, yet it hadn't seemed like much. The fresh-kill pile was low thanks to the heat and sinking lake, and the entire Clan seemed short-tempered.

 _We do need a Gathering,_ Robinpaw thought, listening to the elevated voices. _Everyone needs something to relax._

"Robinpaw!"

Robinpaw looked up at the sound of his name. Paws thumping against the earth told him cats were approaching, but there were too many to discern who the cats were before they were right before him. By scent, he identified Spiderleg and Whitetail, along with his siblings, Spottedpaw and Lionpaw. Robinpaw's ears pricked in surprise and curiosity.

"Yes?" he wondered. What did they want with him?

"Onestar wants you to come patrol with us," Spiderleg meowed courteously. "We're going to look for water sources, and Onestar suggested we take you."

"Me?"

"Yes," Whitetail meowed. "So you can help us determine whether the water is safe or not. You've got one of the best noses in the Clan!"

Robinpaw's ear flicked at the praise. Being blind _did_ make his nose sharper than most. Robinpaw got to his paws and meowed, "Well; I'm yours. Lead on."

Spiderleg huffed, and his pawsteps began heading for the camp entrance. Whitetail fell in step behind him, while Spottedpaw and Lionpaw surrounded Robinpaw as they followed. His siblings were bristling with excitement – the three of them hadn't been out together in ages, and quickly they fell into a familiar routine – Lionpaw out front, Spottedpaw flanking, and Robinpaw settled in the middle.

"Any idea where to begin?" Whitetail wondered, when they were out of the camp.

"Onestar said to try the lake," Spiderleg suggested, "just to see how far down it's gone and whether the water is still safe. Other than that, we've got the whole territory."

"I hope we find something," Spottedpaw sighed. "We're all getting parched."

Lionpaw grunted in agreement, and Robinpaw felt unease in his stomach. The streams bordering the forest were beginning to shrink, and the lake, from the sounds of reports, was going down rapidly as well. The heat that baked down on the cats' pelts was doing its foul work on the water supply – it seemed like the puddle in the medicine cat's den was the only one not affected yet.

 _It won't be long, though,_ he thought. _The water will all be gone from the earth soon enough._

Spiderleg led the way through the woods. Robinpaw smelled familiar herb patches, mingled in with landmarks known by the warriors and regular apprentices. Spottedpaw told him about a fallen tree that she and Heatherpaw had caught shrews under, and Lionpaw offered up knowledge about a strange boulder that seemed out of place that he liked.

Robinpaw could feel awkwardness radiating off of Lionpaw as if it were a tangible thing. Their early apprenticeship had been rocky thanks to Robinpaw's anger – Lionpaw had been the most offended by Robinpaw's outbursts. It seemed a little like Lionpaw was tiptoeing around Robinpaw, as if he feared to offend.

 _I wish that weren't so,_ Robinpaw thought, trudging through the woods. His muscles held a dull burn from his night training. _Eventually I hope Lionpaw and I are alright again._ Perhaps the prophecy and the powers it gave them would bring them closer together? It had to.

Before long the sound of lapping water melded in with the buzzing of insects. Spiderleg led them out of the trees and into the open, and Whitetail's grunt told a story even a blind cat could understand. The lake was not at the desired height.

"It's gotten worse," she grumbled.

"And look at the muck!" Spottedpaw gasped. "It looks thick!"

Robinpaw wrinkled his nose at the smell of wet earth and dead fish left to bake in the sunlight. He didn't dare step forward – the stones under his paws would have given way to the cool waters of the lake had they been there, but he had no desire to sink in the mud. Lionpaw sighed before him.

 _No sign of Cinderpaw,_ Robinpaw thought, pricking his ears. _She might be back at camp already, or hunting._ If she couldn't get to the lake safely to swim, it was possible she was exercising herself otherwise. She needed it, after all.

Spiderleg was clearly frustrated. The air wooshed as his tail lashed. "Come on," he growled. "Let's check the streams."

Tense, the group padded back into the shade of the trees and headed through the woods yet again. Robinpaw kept his paws ready, knowing that the roots were curling from the heat. He didn't want to trip over one and slow them down. Spiderleg moved at a trot, and no cat complained.

Soon enough they were at the edge of the forest, with moorland air up ahead. Robinpaw sniffed carefully. Water-smell was here, but faint. By the even fainter sounds of splashing, Robinpaw's heart sank.

"It's barely a mouse-length wide," Whitetail lamented.

Robinpaw tested his paw in the water. It didn't cover his paw, but it was cold. The Moonpool would be low, too, it seemed, since this stream connected to it up in the hills. He shook off his paw. The water was drinkable, but there wasn't enough to satisfy a whole Clan.

"We can take water from here for the queens and elders, at least," Robinpaw offered to Spiderleg. It was strange, talking to an older cat like they were equals – but even medicine cat apprentices could sway senior warriors. "It's not so far off, and it seems like enough."

"I suppose," Spiderleg grunted. "Let's check the other side, then." He paused. "Unless you want to turn back?"

It wasn't a challenge, but it felt like one. Robinpaw could not hear the question without pairing it to Silverhawk's condescending tones, egging him on to give up if the training was too hard. Robinpaw licked his lips and meowed strongly, maybe too strongly, "No."

Spiderleg grunted, but he turned away. No cat commented as the patrol left the stream and headed for the other side of the territory. The ground was dusty beneath their paws, but Robinpaw barely noticed. He worried that perhaps he had been too harsh to Spiderleg, but it didn't seem like the warrior was offended.

 _Yet I worry,_ Robinpaw thought, a tremor in his tail. _I have no desire to be aggressive to my Clanmates anymore._ He would not be walked over, but he would not be mean about it. That part of him, that bitter self, seemed to be gone – but whether it was Robinpaw who had stamped it out, or Silverhawk's training, he didn't know.

The smell of TigerClan wafted through the trees, and the entire patrol tensed. Spiderleg slowed their clip to a stealthy walk through the undergrowth, dry ferns crackling beneath their paws. Robinpaw caught the smell of earth – and faintly, Leafpool. She must have been by not long ago, to check on the old Twoleg nest.

 _She wasn't here long,_ Robinpaw thought. _Probably wary of TigerClan patrols._

Beside him, he felt Spottedpaw and Lionpaw tense. Spiderleg and Whitetail's breathing was slowed, but deep in Robinpaw's ear fur he could feel their heartbeats hammering. Two warriors snooping about with three apprentices – one blind – was an easy pick for a battle-hungry TigerClan patrol.

Robinpaw sheathed and unsheathed his claws. _I'll show them being blind doesn't make me helpless,_ he thought. _If it comes to that._

They crept close to the border, taking care over Twoleg paths, until the smell was in their nose. It was haphazard and seemed filled with frustration, not marked as strongly as it had been before. Spiderleg let out a grunt of satisfaction at that.

"They're getting angry," Spiderleg chuckled. "They're going to screw up soon, that's for sure."

"Enough," Whitetail hissed. "We're too close for this."

Spiderleg grumbled, but said nothing more. They stalked along the border, heading away from the lake. The land was flatter here, with patchy openings from the shade of the trees here and there. Spiderleg kept them out of direct sight, but Robinpaw knew that the land beside them sloped into open clearings now and again.

Suddenly, as the group was nearing the topmost edges of LionClan's territory, Spiderleg ordered them to a halt. The group clustered into a bunch of ferns, and before any cat could ask why Robinpaw scented TigerClan – fresh.

"There's two of them," whispered Whitetail. After a moment, she meowed, shocked, "One of them is Mothwing!"

"Their medicine cat?" Spiderleg meowed, shocked as well. "What's she doing here?"

There was rustling in the bushes. Lionpaw and Spottedpaw kept their heads down while Spiderleg and Whitetail spied. "Are they looking for something?" Robinpaw wondered.

"They have moss!" hissed Spottedpaw.

"There's _water_ there!" Lionpaw decided.

Robinpaw wished that he could see what they saw more than ever.

"Quiet!" hissed Spiderleg. "Don't bring them down on us – who knows where they could all be?"

Lionpaw shut his jaws, but Spottedpaw pulled back and, in Robinpaw's ear, whispered, "There's a pond of some kind just outside their territory, right near some Twoleg paths. There's rocks and stuff and its spewing water everywhere!"

Robinpaw flicked his ear. Spiderleg growled just what the young apprentice had been thinking: "It's some _Twoleg_ thing."

"But it's spitting water!" Whitetail gasped. "Despite it all, it's just… it's like a small lake!"

"Where's its water come from?" Robinpaw wondered.

"Who cares?" Lionpaw grunted. "If _they're_ taking it, it must be safe to drink."

"We have to report this to Onestar and Bramblestar, right away," Spiderleg decided. "Come on, before we're seen."

The ferns rustled, and the patrol turned back. Robinpaw followed, unease prickling his pelt. The water was there, whatever it was and wherever it was coming from – but was it really safe? TigerClan would surely not give it up without a fight, even if it was _outside_ their territory.

"What do you think is going to happen?" wondered Spottedpaw, quietly.

"I hope we fight for it," Lionpaw meowed. "We're going to have to, anyway. And it's worth it, for the water. Who knows how long this drought is going to last?"

"But… for _Twoleg_ water?" Spottedpaw sounded wary, frightened. Robinpaw wondered if she was more afraid of the water than the fighting.

"It doesn't seem to make a difference to _them,"_ Lionpaw pointed out. "We'll see what the leaders say. I wonder if they'll tell us at the Gathering?"

Robinpaw frowned. He swallowed. He had intended the Gathering to bring the Clan closer together and raise their spirits – but he didn't know if announcing a battle was the best way to do it. _We need the water,_ he thought firmly. _It's getting desperate. I suppose we'll have to do what we must to get to it._


	20. Chapter 18

**Hey guys! Sorry for the lack of updates. I had to take some time to really hash out where this story was going, and I have an outlined plan from here until this part's end now! Updates might still be a little sporadic, since my outline might need to change here and there and chapters might be a little long, but for now I'll try my best to keep chipping away!**

 **I'm also working on the next TB, too, for those who are interested!**

* * *

 **Chapter 18**

" _Hurry up, now! No dallying!"_ Speckle hissed, flicking her tail self-importantly. "Fletch said we need to be off by sundown!"

Falcon rolled his eyes at her, mouth stuffed with strengthening herbs for the older members of Jingo's group. He turned away from the demanding she-cat and headed for the bustling group.

The whole barn was spinning around Starlingthorn, and she felt as if she were an embedded boulder amidst it all. She hadn't slept well the night before, her dreams fitful. One moment she was in the Dark Forest – the other, she was back home by the lake, introducing Fletch and the others to Hawkstar. Once, she was backed into a corner by Fletch and Ashfur, both toms staring down at her with glowing eyes full of malice.

Jingo's group was almost ready to go – the more elderly cats, a black tom called Jet and a gray tabby called Chirp, were being given herbs by Falcon. With little possessions or cares to their names, Jingo and her group seemed more than ready to leave this place and go to the lake – considering how Fletch had filled their heads, Starlingthorn was not surprised.

Gull and Lark were huddled beside Magpie, just behind Starlingthorn. Owltail was there as well, observing Magpie – the cat that they had come to see, the cat who had been their real mission – as he struggled to get to his paws.

"Come on, Father," murmured Lark. "You can do it."

Magpie only grunted in reply.

Gull trilled worriedly. Starlingthorn turned to see that the patchy she-cat was propping Magpie up with one shoulder, while Owltail rushed to help with the sick tom's other side. Lark looked at her father with wide, worried eyes – and when she locked eyes with Starlingthorn, the darker she-cat's heart sank. Magpie could barely get to his paws, let alone walk.

 _This journey will kill him, surely as if I had done it myself!_ Starlingthorn thought desperately.

"Where… where?" asked Magpie. His voice rasped against a dry throat.

"Someplace safer," Gull crooned. She shifted so that Lark could take her place in propping up their burden. Gull paced around Magpie, tail flicking in worry and irritation. Then, Gull approached Starlingthorn.

Gull's eyes were full of questions – but she seemed to force herself to ask only one: "What will happen to us when we get to the lake?"

Unfortunately, Gull has asked a question that Starlingthorn knew she couldn't answer. "I don't know," she admitted, quietly. With a sidelong glance at Ashfur, then back to Gull, she added, "I _really_ don't know." This whole situation had been taken right out of her paws, all at once – or, perhaps, it had never been in her paws to begin with.

"Magpie might not make it," Gull murmured. "What will we do if he…?"

Starlingthon opened her jaws, but Gull didn't wait for a reply. The patchy she-cat turned away and rounded Magpie again, gently coaxing him to move his paws. With Owltail and Lark's help, it seemed that Magpie could at least move a little. Starlingthorn's tail fluffed with anxiety.

Finally, Fletch appeared. Through a crack in the barn wall he came, his tail straight in the air and head held high. Speckle was at his side almost instantly, touching noses with him. Fletch paused in the middle of the barn, then looked about. He observed the cats getting ready to leave with unabashed pride, as if no other cat could have done this but himself.

Starlingthorn frowned. _Ashfur did_ something _to convince you to do this mouse-brained thing… Or perhaps, he'd done nothing at all._ What if this had all been pre-planned, somehow? Starlingthorn shook her head. _No,_ she told herself. _Unless the Dark Forest started talking to Fletch, too, then there's no way they could have that level of coordination. Still…_

She glanced at Ashfur. _Hawkstar sent him for a reason,_ she thought with a deepening frown. Starlingthorn worked her paws into barn floor, her frustration gaining new heights. _Agh! I can't even begin to wonder just how all this had happened!_ She resigned herself to asking Hawkstar when the chance arose – it was possible he would tell her.

"Everyone, listen up!"

Fletch's voice resounded through the barn, and all cats stopped to look at him. When silence had utterly descended upon the barn cats, Fletch, his chin impossibly high, spoke again: "I am so proud of you all for your bravery in this. Sundown is upon us, though – it is far past time we left this place."

Most of Jingo's cats cheered. Others huddled in an uncertain circle, Jingo amongst them with a frown on her face. Yet, when Fletch flicked his tail, she rose and did the same. Her cats rose around her, and flowed behind her as she approached Fletch.

"We are one group," Fletch told Jingo, his eyes glittering at her. "From now on, Jingo, yours are mine… if that is what you wish."

Jingo eyed him. Then, she meowed, "Very well." She sounded resigned, but terse. Starlingthorn wondered if she had really wanted to turn over the cats she'd been watching for so long. But it was done, and Fletch nodded to her before he turned his attention to the rest of them.

"Without further ado," he meowed, "let's get going!"

There was some cheering, and some of the younger cats burst ahead, out the barn door. Falcon followed, his tail bristling with excitement. Gull, behind Starlingthorn, sighed. She walked beside Lark, Owltail, and Magpie as they slowly but surely made their way to the barn entrance. Fletch followed, chatting with Gull on the way.

Starlingthorn was suddenly alone in the barn.

… or not as alone as she had thought.

Ashfur slid in beside her. "So it begins," he hissed. His voice carried a chill that ran down Starlingthorn's spine, and she found herself unable to respond, still stunned by all the sudden happenings.

"Everything that you've worked for will be undone," Ashfur told her, "just you watch."

Ashfur did not wait for a response. He padded ahead, and Starlingthorn stared at his dappled back as his threat settled over her bones like a cold, cold blanket of snow and ice.

 _No good will come of this,_ she thought. It seemed certain, like stone. _No good at all._

She got to her paws and left the barn behind for the final time.

* * *

This Gathering was smaller than the last Lionpaw had been to – or, at least, hadn't supposed to be at. He and Heatherpaw had used the tunnels to peek in on the last Gathering, where apprentices weren't allowed. That Gathering had been the last that LionClan and TigerClan would have together. Lionpaw still wished that he hadn't seen the fighting… and that he hadn't wanted to be part of it.

Heatherpaw sat beside him, with Breezepaw at her other side. Spottedpaw was on Lionpaw's other side, and Robinpaw was settled just beyond her, licking his flanks. Most of the Clan had gathered here, and those who weren't were either coming through the tunnel just now or joining as Lionpaw thought of it. The moorland group, unfortunately, could not leave their post to join the Gathering.

The moon was high and full up above, casting each cat's pelt into silver. Nervous mews filled the air – this was not a normal thing to do, this sort of Gathering. Lionpaw's ears caught one of the elders muttering about traditions, and how they shouldn't be broken. But how could the Clans gather at the island when there was so much hostility? There was no way that it was safe.

Prey-scent was in the air, and Lionpaw suddenly found a bird at his paws. He looked up, and saw that Sorreltail and one of the queens was passing out prey. There was little to go around, but the hunting parties had worked doubly hard to at least make sure there was enough to share.

Lionpaw glanced awkwardly between Spottedpaw and Heatherpaw, wondering whether to share his prey with his sister or his friend – but Spottedpaw was sharing with Robinpaw, and Heatherpaw was sharing with Breezepaw. A flash of jealousy passed through him, but Lionpaw pushed it away – he simply hadn't been fast enough.

"Want to share?" As if his thoughts had summoned her, Honeypaw appeared before him. She smiled, and Lionpaw nodded. Together, they shared the bird.

"Where's Cinderpaw?" Spottedpaw asked when Honeypaw settled down.

"With Stormfur and Brook," Honeypaw replied. Her whiskers twitched and she chuckled, "She's gotten to be pretty good friends with them, thanks to all the swimming she's done!"

"That's good," Spottedpaw agreed, smiling.

The apprentices shared their prey with little chatter – all of them, however, wondered just how the Gathering would go. After all, there was only inter-Clan news to share, and most cats already knew the important bits.

"Unless something crazy happens," Breezepaw yawned, his share of the fresh-kill bones by his paws, "it's going to be a boring night."

"Oh, hush," Heatherpaw chuckled, swatting at him playfully. "This is the first one of these Gatherings – of course it will be a little awkward."

Lionpaw nodded in agreement, and looked around him. It seemed like every cat but the moorland group was here, sharing tongues and prey with one another. There was a great warm feeling of communion now, with the slow rumble of cats talking to one another. Lionpaw even spotted some cats who hadn't said more than a few words to one another talking.

 _It looks like it's working like the Gatherings should,_ Lionpaw thought. He'd heard stories of how the Clans, when they were four, would speak to one another as if they were friends. The Gathering he'd seen had been nothing like that – not even medicine cats had talked to one another. The fight flashed through his mind, and his paws trembled. _I hope nothing goes wrong…_

The moon was at the center of the sky when Onestar and Bramblestar appeared at the top of the Highledge. Honeypaw was sitting with Lionpaw, pressed between him and Spottedpaw. When Lionpaw moved to accommodate, he bumped into Heatherpaw, who bumped into Breezepaw, who hissed in irritation at his half-brother's immense size. Lionapw flattened his ears, glad that the Clan grew quiet just then and didn't seem to notice.

"Welcome, LionClan!" Onestar announced. "This is our first Gathering as a Clan, beneath the full moon."

Some cats muttered, unsettled by the thought. Lionpaw noted it was mostly cats who had experienced Gatherings before LionClan and TigerClan.

"We have decided that we will use these nights to focus inward, on our Clan's accomplishments," Bramblestar meowed. He looked confident in the idea. "Without other Clans to hear from, we can focus more on individuals and their achievements, and take our time. Let's begin!"

"We'll start with the apprentices," Onestar meowed. "Does anyone have anything in particular to say about their apprentices?"

It was silent, and awkwardly so. Lionpaw could imagine why, yet excitement roared in him. Would Sorreltail say anything about him? Had he done anything spectacular this moon? He knew he had!

It was Sandstorm who spoke up, unafraid to do so: "Honeypaw made a wonderful leap earlier, to catch a bird – she practically flew!"

The Clan clamored, and Honeypaw raised her head proudly. Sandstorm gave her a nod, and it seemed like she'd broken the ice. Brightheart came next: "Spottedpaw is a fantastic hunter, she has so much potential!"

Spottedpaw's eyes widened. Lionpaw recalled what she'd told of her power, and realized that it would make a good hunter to see like she did. He congratulated his sister along with the rest of the Clan, and Robinpaw purred beside her. Spottedpaw's tail curled bashfully, and Lionpaw did not miss Berryfrost glancing her way with a grin.

"Lionpaw and Breezepaw are both becoming fine fighters," Whitetail offered. Across the crowd, Sorreltail nodded and added, "TigerClan will have something to fear from them, when they're warriors!"

The Clan cheered again, and Lionpaw puffed out his chest to soak it in. _I_ am _a good fighter!_ He told himself proudly. Breezepaw looked just as proud when Nightcloud brushed her muzzle against his. _TigerClan will fear me, you'll see!_

"I'd like to say something for Cinderpaw," Cloudtail offered.

Onestar nodded at the white warrior, and the crowd died down to let him speak. Brightheart by his side, Cloudtail raised his voice and meowed: "She's done so well, in the face of her injury. A lesser cat would have given up, but Cinderpaw is nearly back on her paws and ready to finish her training. Her strength is extraordinary, and I'm proud to have her as my apprentice."

Cinderpaw's eyes glittered with gratitude. "You big softie!" she chuckled.

"I won't be so soft when your training resumes," Cloudtail told her, his blue eyes sharp. "Remember, I'm a deputy – you've got a lot to prove."

"Bring it on!" Cinderpaw cheered. She hopped to her paws. "I could take on the world!"

A ripple of amusement and admiration flowed through the Clan, and Lionpaw smirked at Cinderpaw. LionClan was full of so many strong she-cats, it was amazing. He glanced at Honeypaw and his sister, both rooting for their friend, and then to Heatherpaw, who was purring. His gaze lingered on her, but as the crowd died down he looked away, his pelt hot.

 _I'm too young to worry about that sort of thing. It's OK if we're just friends right now,_ he told himself. He shuffled his paws. _For now…_

The Gathering went on. The accolades didn't stop at the apprentices – much to their surprise, the warriors were also included. Sandstorm was commended for bringing in the most prey – no surprise, since she was the best hunter in the Clan. Other warriors were called on for other accomplishments, but when Crowfeather was called on for a swift rabbit takedown, the praise from the rest of the Clan was not so joyous.

Lionpaw sighed at that. Most of the Clan didn't really like Crowfeather much, because of his attitude in dealing with the situation _he'd_ gotten himself into. Blaming others for one's failings didn't make many friends – and neither did treating two strong she-cats like he did. Part of Lionpaw wished his father would simply own up to it all.

The last of the announcements came from Leafpool, who stood up and meowed: "I'd like to add that Robinpaw and Kestrelpaw have been doing an outstanding job." Her eyes were shining as she glanced at her apprentices in the crowd. "I've never been happier to have the help, and LionClan will be in good paws when they receive their names."

Robinpaw looked shocked at the words, but Lionpaw was even more surprised to see him looking bashful. Robinpaw scuffled his paws and muttered something to himself, something no one could hear or make out, and then he raised his head. Lionpaw guessed he was chiding himself for being nervous.

"With that done," Onestar meowed, his voice echoing through the camp, "We would like to have a moment of silence for the fallen. Their sacrifices have ensured that those of us still here can live another day, and they must be honored in their places amongst our warrior ancestors."

The Clan readily agreed. Each cat lowered their heads with a soft sigh, and silence enclosed the gathered cats. Lionpaw stared at his paws, frowning. Brackenfur. Mouseflight. Morningflower. Barkface. All of them killed by TigerClan in some way. How many more would die, before he was a warrior? He dug his claws into the dry dirt. _None, if I have my way._

Silence stretched on into what seemed like eternity, until finally Bramblestar lifted his head and rasped, "That will do."

The somber mood didn't last long. The gathered cats shuffled around one another, getting comfortable on the warm night, and began to talk and share tongues. Lionpaw watched Onestar and Bramblestar pad down the Highledge to join the rest of LionClan and soon all were in the hollow, talking and enjoying themselves.

"… I still can't believe that Whitewing is having kits!" mewed Honeypaw, beside Lionpaw. "And _Weaselfur's!_ Who could have known?"

"It's a good sign," Spottedpaw offered, her voice warm. "With Brook expecting too, there'll be plenty of kits."

"I wonder who will have kits next?" Honeypaw purred mischievously. She gave Spottedpaw a sidelong glance. "I've seen how Berryfrost looks at you, you know…"

Spottedpaw's spine bristled. "Honeypaw!" she spat, offended, "For one, I'm _way_ too young – for another, we're just friends!"

Honeypaw chuckled. "Uh- _huh,_ " she grinned. "Sure."

Spottedpaw's fur fluffed up, and Lionpaw resisted the urge to laugh, too. Seeing his sister so bothered was rare, and he intended to enjoy it, even if he had no interest in Honeypaw's gossip.

Thankfully, Honeypaw didn't prod further: "So, how long do you think it will be before Stormfur has brothers and sisters?"

Lionpaw tuned out Spottedpaw's reply. He really had no interest in the topic, so he turned to Heatherpaw and Breezepaw. Nightcloud was talking to Breezepaw, and it seemed like her eyes were all for him – so Lionpaw had Heatherpaw all to himself.

"I can't believe it's been a whole moon since I've been made an apprentice," Lionpaw breathed.

"Me, either," Heatherpaw sighed. "So much has happened, it's felt like forever! And you still have so far to go."

Lionpaw nodded. It seemed daunting, really – in just one moon he'd seen battle and done so much more! How much could life throw at him before he was a warrior?

"I'm only a moon ahead," Heatherpaw added, "and it still feels like it will take forever to become a warrior."

"Do you think it used to be easier?" Lionpaw wondered. He'd heard tales of apprentices' duties being lighter, less strenuous – with definitely less battle training sessions than Lionpaw could have dreamed. Heatherpaw's nod was expected.

"When our parents were apprentices," she meowed, "they had to do so much less… yet we have to train the same amount of time as them." Heatherpaw frowned, her pale eyes determined. "I suppose it's so that we have more knowledge going forward than they did, to better defend ourselves."

Lionpaw nodded in agreement. "Sounds right," he grunted. Working his paws into the dusty earth he added, "TigerClan's such a threat, we need the best-trained warriors we can get. I can't wait to be one of them."

Heatherpaw blinked at him. Her tone almost sounded sad: "Is that all you want to do, Lionpaw? Fight?"

"If it'll save my Clan, then yes," Lionpaw told her determinedly. _Keep it secret,_ he reminded himself. _No cat can know that you're practically invincible. Not yet._ "I want things to be peaceful again. TigerClan is a huge threat, and they need to go down."

Heatherpaw's eyes narrowed at that. She grunted, "Well, you _sound_ like a warrior." Under her breath, she added, "One with wool for brains…"

Lionpaw kept his fur flat. He didn't understand it – why were Heatherpaw and Spottedpaw so offended by the thought of driving out TigerClan for good? TigerClan was sure bent on doing it to LionClan – why couldn't they give as good as they were getting? He didn't dare say anything, though. Too many cats around, and Heatherpaw was already turning away to talk to Nightcloud.

Breezepaw glanced at Heatherpaw, then at Lionpaw. He sighed, then scooted over to his half-brother's side. "Careful what you say about that sort of thing," he hissed. "She gets really testy about it."

"I know," Lionpaw muttered back. "Spottedpaw, too."

Breezepaw curled his lip. "They'll see one day that TigerClan needs driving out," he told him. He seemed to think a moment, then began to say: "Hey, if you want, we can go talk to -"

"Cats of LionClan!" the announcement cut Breezepaw off. All eyes turned to the front of the crowd, where Onestar and Bramblestar had moved. Bramblestar finished, "We have an announcement!"

The crowd settled into silence, anticipation in the air. Lionpaw looked through the crowd eagerly, wondering just what it was they were going to announce – hadn't all the things worth saying been said?

"Many of you have heard by now of the water source found just outside TigerClan's territory," Onestar meowed. The Clan buzzed at that – Lionpaw frowned. What could they possibly be announcing something about this for? Wasn't that something to talk about over a normal Clan meeting?

Onestar went on: "It is time to face facts – this drought is here to stay, and there is no discernible end in sight. Our streams are drying up, and the lake is impossible to drink from safely. Bramblestar and I have spoken over this, and we have decided that it is time to strike back at TigerClan. We will take their water source!"

The entire Clan buzzed with murmurs and chatter. Some cats were excited – Lionpaw among them – but others were apprehensive. Lionpaw didn't understand why. _Finally_ , they were going to strike first! Finally, TigerClan would feel the pain they'd inflicted upon LionClan – at least some of it! Wasn't that something to be excited about?

Lionpaw glanced at Spottedpaw. Between them, Honeypaw's eyes were burning with determination – but Spottedpaw's eyes were wide, full of worry. Robinpaw, beside her, looked stiff. Lionapw scoffed inwardly at his sister – leave it to her to be a worry-wart.

Bramblestar's voice cut through the crowd, calling for silence: "We've planned this attack for some time, and we think we've found a good strategy. There will be two groups – one to mark the border, and one to spring out and surprise TigerClan when they confront the first group. Together, both groups will catch TigerClan off guard and we will leave with the water source behind _our_ markers!"

The Clan cheered. Cats began clamoring for places in the groups – but Bramblestar and Onestar fought for silence. When it came, Onestar announced: "The members of the first group will be Brightheart, Spottedpaw, Cloudtail, and Willowfoot."

"The second group," Bramblestar picked up, before any cat could protest, "I will lead. With me will be Graystripe, Sandstorm, Honeypaw, Sorreltail, Lionpaw, Whitetail, Breezepaw, and Crowfeather."

Lionpaw's ears pricked. _I'm in the second group? The attack group?_ Excitement roiled in his belly. The thought of sinking his claws and teeth into TigerClan flesh made him quiver. Beside him, Honeypaw hissed in delight, while Breezepaw couldn't keep his tail from fluffing.

"Details for your assignments will be spoken of tomorrow," Onestar meowed over the clamor. "Get some rest, all of you. Tomorrow will not be taken lightly."

 _Tomorrow!_ Lionpaw's heart was suddenly in his throat. _So soon?_

"Finally," hissed Breezepaw. "We'll be able to take the fight to them!"

Lionpaw nodded. "This will definitely give us some good ground!" he agreed.

A paw brushed against Lionpaw's flank. Lionpaw turned and spotted Robinpaw there, paw outstretched. Lionpaw excused himself from Breezepaw and faced his siblings. Robinpaw pulled their heads close, and the three leaned in so that their muzzles almost touched.

"I'm sure I don't need to remind either of you," Robinpaw breathed quietly, "but be careful."

"Of course," Spottedpaw assured him.

"It's no worry," Lionpaw grunted. He kneaded his paws into the ground. "I can handle anything that comes my way."

Had Robinpaw opened his eyes, Lionpaw imagined that they would have burned with irritation. "Don't be cocky," he hissed, pale fur rising. "We have no idea how these powers work, and they could disappear at any time. _Be careful."_

Lionpaw frowned. _Stop coddling me,_ he growled to himself. _You're not our mother._ He wanted to say it, but he couldn't bring himself to – not with Spottedpaw there, too. She looked at him with even eyes, as if she knew what he was thinking, or what he might do.

"You can't be so hasty, Lionpaw," Spottedpaw warned. "We're lucky to be chosen for something like this, and we need to make sure that we make it out all right."

The three pulled apart. Lionpaw frowned, his mood dampened by his sibling's frustrating tendencies. Why couldn't they understand? Lionpaw was already feeling invincible. _No TigerClan cat will hurt me,_ he insisted to himself. _I know how my powers work, even if you don't._

 _I can handle myself._


	21. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

 _Evening placed stars in the_ sky when Starlingthorn caught up with the traveling group. They were padding quietly along the Twoleg fences, clearly wary of the dogs – but at the head of the group were Fletch and Ashfur, both confidently leading the way.

Starlingthorn was glad that Ashfur was as far away from her as he was – but she wished he were even further away. Though the night was chokingly warm, Ashfur's words had chilled Starlingthorn to the bone… and she didn't think she could ever be warm again.

 _This is all so wrong,_ she thought. _How did this happen? Why?_ If Hawkstar had planned this from the beginning, why not tell Starlingthorn? She frowned. _We may be mates, but that doesn't mean Hawkstar trusts me with Clan business. I am still an outsider._ Maybe it looked better to have Ashfur do it?

No matter how she tried reasoning it out in her mind, Starlingthorn couldn't make sense of it. Unless the Dark Forest was somehow involved, there was no way Ashfur or Hawkstar or _anyone_ would think to bring back Fletch and the others. Starlingthorn had spoken little of her past – Squirrelflight was the only one who knew more than most – and even when it came to talking about Magpie and the barn, she'd been intentionally vague until now.

Starlingthorn kept herself near the back of the group. The elderly were clustered in the middle, along with a queen and her kits and some of the younger cats, while the older and more experiences ones were huddled along the outside. Speckle would bark orders as if she were Fletch or Ashfur herself, and when the others obeyed she would get a look of pride that made Starlingthorn feel ill.

 _She's just as bad,_ Starlingthorn thought grimly. _I never thought Fletch would end up with a she-cat like that, but it's easy to love someone who makes themselves be everything you want._ She swallowed. _If he even loves her._ For Speckle's sake, Starlingthorn hoped he did.

The entire group was clearly nervous – aside from Speckle barking orders or the occasional whimper from a kit, they were quiet along the fence. Starlingthorn scented the air – dog-scent was there, but stale; yet even that was clearly too fresh for these cats. Starlingthorn was sure the dogs were locked up, but just in case she kept her eyes peeled for their dark shapes beyond the fence.

It seemed like an eternity before they moved past the Twoleg farm – but as the moon rose, the fence was but a shadow behind them. The group began to move a little faster, and relief was echoed on every mew. No dogs had gotten near them, and Starlingthorn heard more than one voice praising Ashfur and the strangers for their help.

 _The dogs get tied up at night, you mouse-brains!_ Starlingthorn thought in frustration. _That's the way it's been every night!_ She hated the ridiculous way these cats were fawning over Ashfur, as if he were some savior sent from above – but then, she recalled, that Jingo's group had dealt with much hardship in the past. Anyone with a little confidence must look like a savior. _At least Jingo isn't as impressed._

It was moonhigh when Gull forced Fletch and Ashfur to stop. Fletch was clearly unhappy with the lack of progress – but Magpie could barely stand, and needed as much rest as he could get. For his father's sake, Fletch led the group just outside a little patch of woods, where they sheltered just within the bushes.

Starlingthorn frowned. These woods were the same ones that they'd gone through on the way here. _TigerClan isn't that far away, really,_ she thought uneasily. _I'll get my answers when we get back, I suppose – but do I really want them?_

"Starling – are you just going to stand there like a duck an' stare, or are ya going to get some sleep?"

Gull's voice came from a clump of dry bracken, situated a little ways away from the main group. Lark and Owltail were there as well, and Magpie had been given a makeshift nest between them. Starlingthorn was the only cat to not have moved into the woods.

Swallowing, Starlingthorn joined her friends. Lark and Gull were settled together, tails twined, and both within a pawstep of Magpie. Owltail was a little further off, but clearly he didn't want to settle near the main group, either. Starlingthorn settled herself beside Magpie, pressing her fur against his. Magpie shivered, then sighed, and then slept.

"This is hard on him," Gull murmured shakily. Her eyes were full of concern. "Too hard." Lark pressed against Gull, making a soothing sound in her throat.

"I'm sorry we brought this on you," Starlingthorn sighed. "This wasn't what we'd intended at all."

"Owltail said as much," Lark agreed, nodding. "I don't know what's going on, Starling, but… we do need to find a different place, yeah? I just wish… I just wish Magpie would be able to see it, too."

Starlingthorn stared down at the cat who had been like a father to her. She wanted to tell Lark that Magpie would make it, that Mothwing and Willowshine would take care of him – but she knew deep down that she would be wrong. Magpie would not make it to TigerClan.

 _And it will be my fault._

* * *

Spottedpaw was doing her best to keep her paws from trembling. She followed Brightheart as close as she dared – they couldn't make this "patrol" look like anything but that. Cloudtail led the way, his white tail up and confident. Willowfoot seemed just as worried as Spottedpaw – her battle experience was little, but her eyes were hard with determination. The Clan needed water, and she would fight for it.

 _So will I,_ Spottedpaw told herself as they padded through the ferns. TigerClan scent was strong here, along the border. Idly, Cloudtail paused to mark a stone with his scent – normal patrol procedure, nothing strange here… _But this is terrifying all the same. How can I not be scared?_

It was stiflingly warm, with no breeze to speak of. Sunhigh heat had the insects buzzing, and with little other noise in the woods it seemed like everything was building up to a great crescendo. Perhaps that was just Spottedpaw's imagination? She didn't know. If there were any other sounds, she couldn't hear them.

Cloudtail led the way along the border, around the bulge that contained the Twoleg clearing. There were no Twolegs there today in their pelts, but it looked like some had been there recently where the grass had been flattened. Spottedpaw had never seen the strange pelt-dens that Twolegs used in greenleaf, and she was thankful for that. It seemed like this greenleaf was too hot for even Twolegs.

They padded along the outskirts of the clearing, along their own border. Spottedpaw hated patrolling this way because of that clearing – it made the border bulge in a bad way, but on the other side of things the clearing was almost useless. Because of the Twolegs, there was hardly ever prey there, and TigerClan cats did not fare well hunting in the open – it certainly wasn't worth LionClan fighting over.

Cloudtail changed his path now, veering away from the clearing and out towards the very outskirts of LionClan's borders. What lay beyond the lake this way, Spottedpaw didn't know – she wasn't eager to find out, either. She hoped they wouldn't go too far out of their way.

A streak of color caught her eye, and glancing into her own territory she spotted the dappled pelt of Sorreltail. Just behind her trailed Lionpaw and Honeypaw – the other half of the battle patrol was getting into position.

"Eyes forward, Spottedpaw," Brightheart mewed quietly. "We're still within sight of TigerClan."

Spottedpaw nodded and turned her eyes ahead. She knew there was a TigerClan patrol of some kind somewhere – her patrol had to do their best to make it seem like nothing strange was going on. Spottedpaw gave herself one quick glance, just to see that the other half of the patrol was gone before forging ahead beside her mentor.

Cloudtail led them down a Twolegpath, lined with hundreds of pieces of splintered wood. They did not tread on the trail, but they followed it until familiar scents were replaced with unfamiliar ones – and TigerClan, faintly amongst them.

The patrol stopped, hiding themselves inside some brambles. Beyond them was the water-thing – a strange pool of water, much smaller than the lake but bigger than any puddle Spottedpaw had seen, lay there in the ground. Occasionally, water spouted out from somewhere in the puddle and flowed dazzlingly into the water below.

"They've been here recently," Cloudtail grumbled. He opened his jaws, and then confirmed, "It doesn't seem like there's anyone else nearby. Let's do this."

Eager to be done, Cloudtail and the others got to their paws quickly. The white warrior led the way deliberately around the clearing, and each cat marked a wide range around the water until they came back around to where they'd began. The area now reeked of LionClan, and Spottedpaw knew it wouldn't be long until some TigerClan cat smelled it.

Cloudtail observed their work, then grunted and nodded, "Now we wait."

Spottedpaw dug her claws into the earth. Did they _have_ to wait? Not only were they poking TigerClan, but they were on a clearly-marked Twoleg track! What if a Twoleg came by and saw them? Even though they were well-hidden, they wouldn't be for long. If a Twoleg came across the fighting, what would happen?

Brightheart leaned down and mewed quietly, "When TigerClan comes and attacks, remember what you need to do."

Spottedpaw nodded. _Go and fetch Bramblestar._ Those were her orders. When TigerClan attacked and the patrol needed reinforcements, Spottedpaw would go and fetch them – but they would come much sooner than TigerClan would have ever anticipated.

"How long do you think this will take?" Willowfoot wondered. "Their territory is just as big as ours – there could be no one in this part of the woods."

"TigerClan needs to eat," Cloudtail told her, keeping his voice low, "just as much as we do. With no group in ShadowClan's old camp and the water right here, no doubt we'll see some patrol soon."

Spottedpaw took a deep breath. The logic was as sound as it could be. Yet she wished she knew when it was all going to happen – she'd seen visions of the ambush in LionClan's own camp almost the night before it occurred, yet she saw nothing of this fight. No echoes flitted about on the trail, and no dreams of fighting cats. She worked the earth with her claws. Spottedpaw did not like not knowing.

Yet it seemed as if they didn't have to wait long – it was faint, but Spottedpaw saw an echo fade into the clearing. Just behind it, in the bushes on the other side, a cat followed. The tom stepped into his echo as if he couldn't see it – and Spottedpaw was sure he couldn't. More echoes – and cats – followed, until a full TigerClan patrol was in the clearing.

Spottedpaw did not recognize most of the cats, but she did recognize Rowanclaw when he raised his head in shock at the smell of LionClan. The ginger warrior curled his lip and growled, "What's the meaning of this?"

"That's our cue," Cloudtail murmured. He glanced at Spottedpaw and told her, "Remember what you need to do."

Spottedpaw nodded. Now her heart was pounding in her ears, as Cloudtail stepped confidently out onto the Twoleg track. Some of the TigerClan warriors dropped their dry moss in surprise as Cloudtail and the patrol appeared. Spottedpaw came last, but made sure that she was just as confident as the others – this battle was planned and prepared, and she knew in her gut that that was the sort of thing that won fights.

" _LionClan,"_ growled one of the warriors, a fierce she-cat.

"Get off of our territory," Cloudtail told them coldly.

"Your territory!" spat Rowanclaw. "This land belongs to TigerClan!"

"We scented no markers," Willowfoot pointed out idly. "And nowhere is it stated that we cannot expand our boundaries."

"Silence, _kittypet,"_ spat Rowanclaw. "This land belongs to TigerClan, and you will regret spreading your stink here."

Cloudtail lashed his tail, flattening his halved ear. "Bring it on," he sneered.

Rowanclaw let out a yowl of command, and suddenly TigerClan warriors were surging across the track, kicking up splinters of wood in their wake. The entire patrol braced themselves, and Spottedpaw unsheathed her claws as a wave of cats and echoes flooded over her.

* * *

"Keep low," commanded Bramblestar. "We don't want to spoil the attack."

Lionpaw crouched as low as he could, flattening his broad body against the earth. Breezepaw and Honeypaw did the same beside him. The warriors weren't as flattened as the apprentices, but none of the three wanted to be the ones who gave things away.

Bramblestar had led the group into a large clump of greenleaf-ripe ferns and brambles, downwind from the attack site. If Lionpaw lifted his head as high as it would go, he could see in the distance that the patrol had marked the new boundaries and were simply waiting for the inevitable.

Quivering, Lionpaw wondered how long it would take. A minute? Two? An hour? What if they were waiting all day?

"Stop squirming," hissed Honeypaw. "You're going to give us away!"

Lionpaw stilled himself. "Sorry," he muttered. "Just nervous."

"You're telling me," Breezepaw huffed. His tail was twisting to and fro, just above the ground, and his eyes were glittering with excitement. "I can't wait to get to the fight!"

Lionpaw nodded in agreement. He could feel the blood roaring in his ears, burning all the way down to his toes. He wanted nothing more than to leap out of the hiding spot and fall into a flurry of fighting cats. His claws itched.

"Couldn't we have just marked the boundary and waited things out, though?" Crowfeather, ahead of them, grunted. "They'd either accept it or fight us on it then."

"And leave things in _their_ paws?" Graystripe grumbled back. "I don't know about you, Crowfeather, but I want TigerClan to get the point _now,_ not play tit-for-tat on the border until they find some way of beating us back."

"Graystripe is right," Bramblestar meowed in agreement. "This time, _we_ do the ambushing. A strong offensive now will scare them off for a while – which may be all we need before it rains again."

If Crowfeather was offended by his old friend's statement, he gave no indication. Crowfeather merely shrugged and hunched himself back down to wait. Whitetail, Sandstorm, and Sorreltail gave no indication of their opinion – they simply waited as well.

Lionpaw was just about to wonder again how long they'd have to wait when a yowl exploded in the air. He raised his head – _Was that Spottedpaw?_ – before being shoved down by Breezepaw with an irritated hiss. Lionpaw kept himself low, cursing himself. He had almost given them away!

"Steady," Bramblestar warned. He was peering just over the leaves. "Rowanclaw's patrol has taken the bait. They're outnumbered – wait for Spottedpaw to retreat."

The patrol settled down, but kept their muscles taut. The instant Spottedpaw was sent out for reinforcements, the TigerClan patrol would think they were winning – but she wouldn't have to go far. Bramblestar's patrol was only a few lengths away, hidden by undergrowth and the lack of breeze.

The sounds of fighting were growing louder, more numerous. Lionpaw's ears twitched as he recognized the voices of the patrol, growling and snapping and yowling in anger as they fought. The TigerClan cats sounded just as vicious, and there were more of them than the LionClan patrol – as was intended.

Then, suddenly, Cloudtail's voice split the air: "Retreat!"

The entire backup patrol tensed. Bramblestar raised his tail – a signal to wait. They didn't want to blow their cover too soon. Lionpaw strained his ears as the undergrowth rustled and bustled before them. Was Spottedpaw being followed? Was she all right?

 _She has powers just like me,_ he told himself. She could see cat's moves before they made them! _She'll be all right._

Spottedpaw burst from the undergrowth just around the patrol. Her sides were heaving, her eyes were wide, and a tiny bit of fur was stripped from her mottled flanks – but she was all right. She turned to Bramblestar and simply nodded.

Bramblestar twitched his tail, and the patrol got to their paws. Lionpaw's belly skimmed the earth as they stalked quickly through the undergrowth, dodging roots and bushes and other trip-ups before they exploded out onto the Twoleg path and into the open battle.

Lionpaw immediately slammed right into a TigerClan cat – young, from the feel of their muscles beneath their fur. Lionpaw dug his claws in deep, earning a screech. The two tussled, but the TigerClan cat's strikes only grew weaker, while Lionpaw was radiating strength. With one great swipe of his paw, Lionpaw sent his opponent away and spun on his paws, looking for another fight to help.

He rushed at Spottedpaw and Honeypaw, who were tussling with a TigerClan warrior twice their size. Spottedpaw was dodging every swipe, but hardly finding time to strike herself. Honeypaw was making up for it, nipping at the warrior's legs while Spottedpaw distracted them. Lionpaw shouldered his way into the fight and grasped the warrior's leg in his jaws, pulling him off the two she-cats.

Together, Honeypaw and Spottedpaw pounced. Their flashing claws and pinpoint strikes sent the TigerClan warrior running quickly, and the three apprentices lifted their heads with triumph. Lionpw did not revel in it long – his heart was pounding, the blood was rushing in his ears, and his claws burned to find another opponent.

The battle was thinning quickly around them. The sudden wave of reinforcements had happened much more quickly than TigerClan had expected, and they were being beaten back – but Rowanclaw and the others were clearly too proud to sound the full retreat.

In the middle of the tussling, Bramblestar and Rowanclaw were tangled together, a ball of claws and teeth. Rowanclaw was fighting his hardest, and so was Bramblestar – but Rowanclaw was holding his own, and Lionpaw didn't like that.

He flew across the battle, dodging tussling clumps of cats as he dashed. Bramblestar and Rowanclaw were struggling together just before him now, and Lionpaw reached in and grasped Rowanclaw by the back of the neck. Using all his strength, he dragged the dark ginger tom away from Bramblestar and scored his claws down his shoulder.

Rowanclaw hissed, snagging his claws in Lionpaw's thick fur – but with Lionpaw holding Rowanclaw down by the neck, there wasn't much the TigerClan deputy could do but lie there and struggle against Lionpaw's strikes.

Finally, Lionpaw was pushed away. Rowanclaw's back welled with blood from shoulders to haunches, but Lionpaw's claws sang to do more – to _feel_ more. Bramblestar was pushing him away, though, forcing him back from the fight.

"That's enough," Bramblestar insisted. "That's enough!"

The haze lifted from Lionpaw's eyes, and suddenly a wave of tiredness crashed over him – not so forceful as it had before, during the ambush in the LionClan camp, but strong enough to make Lionpaw fall back onto his haunches with tiredness. The clearing was quiet around them, and most of the TigerClan cats were backed up on their side of the new border.

Rowanclaw pushed himself up, glaring at the LionClan cats. "We won't forget this," he hissed.

"I should hope you won't," Bramblestar declared. "This is LionClan land now."

Rowanclaw spat at Bramblestar's paws, but said nothing more. He and his patrol limped away into the woods without another word. Lionpaw watched them go through hazy, sleepy eyes. As the TigerClan cats left, the LionClan patrols threw their heads back and yowled victoriously – all but Lionpaw, who only wanted to sleep.

* * *

"He just needs rest," Robinpaw sighed.

"That can't be it!" Spottedpaw fretted. "Look at him! He's covered in blood!"

"Yes, but it's not _his_ blood," Robinpaw hissed. He had felt his brother's pelt with paws and nose almost three times now – there were no visible wounds on Lionpaw's body, and the stench of blood reeking off of his pelt was not the smell of his own. "It's TigerClan blood. He just needs rest, Spottedpaw."

Spottedpaw let out a sigh, sitting down. Robinpaw frowned. The battle party had come back, roaring with their success – they had even brought moss with fresh drinking water, cool and clear, for the whole Clan. Another patrol was sent out immediately to re-mark the area and ensure TigerClan did not return – but the cats that had fought were being tended to.

There weren't too many injuries – and none were serious. Spottedpaw had a bad scratch along her haunch and Whitetail's tail had taken a nasty nip, but that seemed to be the worst of it. Leafpool and Kestrelpaw were tending to the others, allowing Robinpaw to pull his siblings away. Thankfully, Leafpool hadn't noticed all the blood on Lionpaw's pelt and paws. He was being allowed to sleep in the medicine cat's den for now – he'd barely been able to make it back, he'd been so tired.

Quietly, Robinpaw meowed, "It's his power. It makes him tired when he uses it."

"I know," Spottedpaw sighed. "Mine gives me headaches, sometimes."

 _Not this time, though,_ Robinpaw thought with a frown. _And Lionpaw didn't pass out immediately like he had last time. You're both becoming accustomed to using these powers._ Robinpaw wondered what his penalty would be – but how could he know that, when he didn't even know what his power was?

"He needs to be more careful," Robinpaw sighed. "We still don't know everything about this prophecy, or these powers."

"Tell that to _him,"_ Spottedpaw grunted. "He's as stubborn as an oak tree, with roots twice as thick!"

Robinpaw nodded in agreement. He sighed again. There was nothing he could do but keep telling Lionpaw to be careful – but whether or not their brother would heed the advice was unclear. Robinpaw nudged Spottedpaw.

"Get some fresh-kill and then some rest for yourself," he told her. "We'll talk about this in the morning."

Spottedpaw only licked his ear in reply, before padding away. Robinpaw sighed. He wished he could see the stars overhead, and the signs and answers that were probably hidden away in them.

* * *

Lionpaw was awoken by a prodding paw and a hiss: "Lionpaw, you oaf, get up!"

His eyes flashed open, and he gave a start. He was in the apprentice's den, in the full dark of night. Breezepaw was just barely visible before him, with one paw outstretched to prod again. Lionpaw barely recalled moving from the medicine cat's den to the apprentice's, but once the blood had been cleared from his paws after his initial nap, he'd been allowed to sleep where he liked.

"Breezepaw," he complained, "what is this? It's the middle of the night, and I'm -"

"Tired?" Breezepaw guessed. "Yeah, I know – but there's something I want you to see. Come on!"

Breezepaw didn't dare wait for Lionpaw long. The dark tom slipped out of the den like a shadow. Lionpaw got to his paws – stiff from the fighting – and followed, working his muscles out as he went.

Outside the den the moon shone down, waning from the full moon now. Breezepaw showed no signs of stealth as he padded across the camp, so Lionpaw followed similarly, but kept his body low just in case. Every time Lionpaw attempted to open his mouth to ask what was happening, it was promptly stuffed with Breezepaw's tail.

Finally, just around the elder's den, Breezepaw stopped. He turned to Lionpaw, his eyes glittering with seriousness. "Lionpaw," he breathed, "tell me now – do you think we should fight TigerClan, any way and any time we can?"

Lionpaw frowned. What kind of question was that? "Of course," he insisted. "What kind of question is -"

Again, Breezepaw cut him off. The black tom turned away and slipped into the shadow of the elders' den, kinking his tail for Lionpaw to follow. Even more confused, Lionpaw did.

Behind the elder's den was a large crack in the camp's walls, big enough for a cat to squeeze through. Breezepaw did so, and Lionpaw followed as well. The brief damp darkness reminded Lionpaw of the tunnels, where he and Heatherpaw had played before TigerClan had used them to ambush the camp. The crack opened up – just a little – into a space cool and large enough for a few cats to gather… and a few cats gathered there were.

Lionpaw's eyes widened. Dustpelt, Spiderleg, and Crowfeather were there. When Breezepaw joined them, all three inclined their heads. The way they stared at Lionpaw made him freeze nervously.

"It's all right," Breezepaw insisted. "He's with us."

Crowfeather nodded, but Dustpelt and Spiderleg still looked skeptical. Lionpaw did his best to sit down in the cramped space, huddling close to Breezepaw. How had they found this space, and what was it being used for? Why?

"What is all this?" Lionpaw wondered.

All the cats stared at him, their eyes like claws. Lionpaw frowned, a cold feeling creeping down his pelt. He kept the exit – that narrow crack that no cat could run through without getting stuck – in sight.

"We're having a meeting," Crowfeather said carefully, "about how best to defeat TigerClan."

Lionpaw frowned. "Here? In the dark?"

"It's best to keep some things secret," Spiderleg mewed tersely. He glared at Breezepaw. "Not every cat shares the same opinions, and not many would agree with ours."

"Defeating TigerClan is a good thing, though," Lionpaw offered. He didn't like this cold tenseness – it felt like the times Robinpaw stared at him without _really_ staring at him. "Why wouldn't any cat want the war ended as quickly as possible?"

The three warriors glanced at one another. Then, at Breezepaw. Lionpaw shuffled his paws. Why all this secrecy? What in StarClan was happening? _If they want to defeat TigerClan, why aren't they talking to Onestar or Bramblestar about their ideas?_

"This war has changed the rules," Dustpelt meowed gruffly. "Rules I don't _like_ changing, but some things must be changed in order for LionClan to survive this."

"Like, the warrior code?" Lionpaw breathed.

Dustpelt nodded.

"You want to _change_ the warrior code?" Lionpaw gasped. His pelt bristled, and suddenly Dustpelt, Spiderleg, and even Crowfeather, his own father, loomed over him with hostility in their eyes. Lionpaw shrank – he could face TigerClan with no qualms, but his own Clanmates? What would he do if they attacked him?

"Lionpaw," Breezepaw chimed in, "we're only talking about changing a _few_ parts of the code – not the important ones, the ones that should be more flexible in times like this. Isn't it unfair that TigerClan is free to kill whomever they want, but we're held back?"

Lionapw swallowed. He thought of all the faces he'd never see again, thanks to TigerClan. He nodded in agreement.

"It's just stuff like that," Breezepaw assured him. "When it's all over, things will go back to normal – but this war's dragged on since before you or I were born! It needs to end, and it won't end any faster if we're pandering to rules that shouldn't apply to this situation! Understand?"

Lionpaw frowned – but he nodded.

"Good!" Breezepaw nodded too. He turned to the warriors. "See? He's with us."

It took a moment of thought, but the hackles of the warriors fell. The three settled down and the talking resumed as if nothing had happened, but Dustpelt kept his boring, skeptical look on Lionpaw the entire time.


	22. Chapter 20

**I'm really sorry for not updating as timely as I've tried. I've got a lot of work to do and I haven't been feeling to well emotionally lately. Please understand that I will post when I can, and I will try to keep to the weekly schedule. My wrists' health and my comics takes higher priority than this story so please, again, try to understand that.**

* * *

 **Chapter 20**

 _The journey back to the_ lake seemed to take twice as long as the journey away. It stretched even longer for Starlingthorn, whose mind was weighed down with heavy thoughts and worries that increased with each step taken. Most nights she'd taken watch, unable to sleep.

Long and hot were the days, and short and hot were the nights. Yet the cats trudged on after Fletch and Ashfur, after their hopes and dreams. Each day that passed the cats grew more and more excited, especially the younger ones. The thought of seeing someplace entirely new – and living there – was more than enough to keep the young going. The thought of food for that young kept the older cats on the move.

By Starlingthorn's count, the journey _was_ taking twice as long as it had before – the amount of cats made traveling through the woods more dangerous, and once Fletch and Ashfur had to divert from the original path thanks to a fox in the way. Yet they were going.

The journey was made even slower by Magpie. The time the group spent traveling was almost entirely dictated by the pace Magpie could – or couldn't – maintain, and that pace was not very fast at all. Sometimes the cats only walked a few hours before Lark sped up to Fletch's side to say that Magpie couldn't go on any further. The amount Magpie could manage lessened each day, and Magpie's health was declining more rapidly than Gull or any cat had anticipated.

Yet it was only when the familiar marshlands were in sight that Magpie could absolutely go no further. He lay down that night, and did not get up again.

"This is it for him," Gull murmured, her voice cracking with grief. She laid a paw on Magpie's side, rising and falling with shallow breaths. "I've done all I could, but this journey…"

Starlingthorn said nothing, her jaws clamped tightly shut. She stared at Magpie, grief welling in her heart until she thought it might explode. _I did this to you!_ She wanted to scream. _I knew you'd never make it, but I did nothing to stop it!_

"But we're almost there!" Jingo gasped, her eyes wide. "There's no way we can just…?"

"We could drag him," Gull mewed, "but that won't do no good. It'd only hurt him more." She shook her head solemnly. "We gotta stay here, 'till he goes."

Starlingthorn waited for Fletch to hiss about another delay – but he did not. His eyes were all for his father, full of grief. He only nodded in agreement. Lark edged to his side, but before she came even close, Fletch stood and walked away.

Lark sighed. "Furball…"

Gull pressed her fur against Lark's. "Everyone takes things their own way," she reasoned. Lark sank into a miserable heap on the earth, and Gull gently began grooming her mate's ears.

Starlingthorn knew she ought to join them, to help Lark – but her paws were rooted, frozen. Had there been something, anything, she could have done to prevent this? Had she just not seen the option when it was there? _It's too late now,_ she thought miserably, _he goes to walk the stars, like he always dreamed of._

The moon rose high in the sky that night, and by that time every cat had paid their respects. Magpie's breaths were shallow, with long pauses between that grew longer with every heartbeat. Cats had gathered around their meager catches to tell stories of Magpie – what they knew of him, and what they didn't know, too.

Finally Starlingthorn's paws could move, and when no one else approached the black tom, Starlingthorn did. She felt strangely resolute as she lay down beside him for the final time, her tongue rasping against his ear. He smelled of lavender plucked hastily from the earth, but that old, familiar Magpie smell was there.

"I'm sorry," she murmured to him. "I'm so sorry."

Magpie stirred, faintly. One glazed eye opened, and Magpie somehow managed to mumble, "I know."

Starlingthorn touched her muzzle to his fur. "Please," she breathed, "save your strength. Don't speak."

Magpie replied, "My Starling… I need no more strength. If I… could give it all to you… I would." He coughed. "You will need it."

"But what can I do?" Starlingthorn whimpered. "What can I do without _you?"_

"Anything," Magpie mewed. "Everything."

Starlingthorn's heart clenched, and her chest tightened. Her throat was filled with grief, and words she had no idea how to say. A world without Magpie? Without knowing he was there, somewhere, ready to look after her again?

Magpie did not wait for her to find the strength: "You must save these cats, Starling…" he breathed. "The stars… say it is so. But beware… the darkness you tread can swallow you whole."

Starlingthorn did not bother to ask what he meant – she knew he would not answer, even if he had the time. His words spun in her mind until the moon began to set, and only when Magpie's breathing stopped did Starlingthorn sleep soundly.

* * *

The TigerClan camp was warm when the group returned. Every cat not patrolling or hunting stood stock still, shock in every fur that rose along their pelts. Starlingthorn and Owltail led the way, at Ashfur's insistence. It didn't seem to lessen the blow.

Hawkstar was waiting atop his hollowed log-den, as if he'd known they were returning beforehand. With how it all had turned out, Starlingthorn wouldn't be surprised if he _had_ known. With the shock of Magpie's death still in her bones, Starlingthorn figured that a TigerClan cat could simply leap onto her and kill her right then and there, and she wouldn't notice.

"You've returned," Hawkstar meowed – his tone was not surprised. Somehow, he _had_ known.

The Clan gathered around them as Fletch's group spilled into the camp, nearly filling it up completely. The TigerClan warriors formed a tight circle, and Starlingthorn saw some claws exposed amongst the unsure rumblings. Starlingthorn heard her name a few times, but did not bother to listen beyond that.

"What is this, Hawkstar?" Tawnypelt demanded loudly. Most of the Clan fell silent for her. "Who are these cats?"

Starlingthorn glanced back to find Ashfur – let _him_ explain this! – but the gray-spotted tom had disappeared, like smoke. It was Fletch who came forward, strutting confidently past Starlingthorn and Owltail to face Hawkstar.

"My name is Fletch," he announced. "These are my cats, and we have come to seek our promised shelter."

Hawkstar twitched an ear. "I had expected them to come back with _some_ cats, but not so many as you," he replied calmly. His ice-blue eyes scrutinized Fletch. Then, to the Clan, he meowed, "Cats of TigerClan, listen to me!"

All eyes were on Hawkstar. Starlingthorn could not bring herself to look at her mate and leader – she simply stared ahead. The questions that had burned in her mind were snuffed – it didn't matter anymore how Hawkstar had known, or how Ashfur had known, or how _anyone_ had known. It was too late for her to stop anything.

She listened as Hawkstar explained what was happening – that these cats were to join TigerClan in the war in exchange for a piece of TigerClan's territory, the pine woods. When protest rose, Hawkstar silenced them. After all, it would save on warrior patrols if there was a group permanently stationed in the pines – not only that, but these cats were trained fighters, and with them, TigerClan's numbers now outweighed LionClan's.

There were no protests after that. Starlingthorn had expected more, especially from Tawnypelt – but as Starlingthorn glanced around at her Clanmates, she noticed fresh wounds on several. Her tail flicked in confusion. What had happened?

Hawkstar looked down at Fletch. "You and yours are TigerClan now, Fletch," he meowed. "We will hold a more appropriate ceremony later – for now, we will show you to your new home."

With a flick of his tail, Russetfur stepped forward. Beside her came Willowshine, her mouth stuffed with a packet of leaves. Russetfur dipped her head to Fletch, then meowed, "I am Russetfur, a deputy of TigerClan. This is Willowshine. We do not know whether you have one of your own, but she is a medicine cat. She will be staying with you to care for your sick and hurt."

"We have Gull," Fletch meowed, glaring at Willowshine. The pale she-cat did not budge. "We don't need her."

"Yes, we _do,"_ Gull hiss impatiently. She stepped forward, her patched pelt fluffed. Lark was just a step behind her. To Willowshine, she meowed, "I'm sorry, but Fletch is bein' stubborn for no reason. I know somethin' about herbs and curing, but I don' know nothing about the plants here, where they are an' such. I'd appreciate yer help."

Willowshine flicked her ear in acknowledgement. With the herbs in her mouth, she could say little else. Fletch grumbled, but said nothing.

"Fletch," Hawkstar meowed. Fletch glanced at him. "You and I will have more time to speak later. You and yours must be tired. Go now, and sleep in your new home. Russetfur will show you where the dens have been made."

"Thank you," Fletch meowed emotionally. "This means more than you know."

Hawkstar's eyes flashed, like sunshine on ice, but he said nothing more. Fletch turned away and, with Russetfur in the lead, the group began heading out of the camp. Willowshine and Gull trailed behind, with Lark holding Willowshine's herbs. Gull and Willowshine were talking quietly, seemingly engaged in herb lore. Starlingthorn paid it no mind. She felt hollow and beaten at a game she'd never known the rules of.

When the cats were gone, the TigerClan cats split up into groups to discuss what had just happened. Hawkstar paid them no mind. When he bounded down to touch his nose to Starlingthorn's, she only recoiled in shock.

"Starlingthorn?" Hawkstar wondered, confused. "Are you all right?"

Starlingthorn looked him in the eye, but could not find the words. Owltail stepped forward, throwing her a sympathetic glance before telling Hawkstar, "Magpie died on the way back, Hawkstar. Last night, in fact."

Hawkstar frowned. "I see," he mewed. He flicked his tail at Owltail. "Leave us; get some rest. You'll be patrolling at dusk."

Owltail sighed, but nodded and padded away. Hawkstar pressed against Starlingthorn, leading her into the hollow log where he made his den. She followed, her paws feeling as stone. Inside was warm and stifling, but Starlingthorn couldn't seem to feel it, even as the two of them settled down together in the moss.

Hawkstar wrapped himself around Starlingthorn, and then began lapping at her flanks. "I'm sorry for your loss," he meowed quietly. "He seemed very important to you."

Starlingthorn laid her head on her paws. The energy seemed to have drained out of her body, and she had none for speech. There were so many thoughts spinning in her mind that her head felt empty.

"You will rest today," Hawkstar told her gently, "but I cannot allow for longer. If I begin to treat you differently…"

Starlingthorn only grunted in acknowledgement.

Hawkstar continued grooming. "This drought has been taxing," he went on. "We found a water source – a strange object that spouts water – near a Twoleg path, but…"

"A fountain," Starlingthorn said quietly. "It's a fountain." She recalled those, dimly. Her old housefolk had had one. The water hadn't been the best, but it was always constant and somewhat cold.

"I suppose," Hawkstar meowed. His voice was tight. "LionClan found out about it and marked the area as their own." He tensed beside her, his muscles rigid like stone. "Without a group in the pines, patrolling our territory has been a great effort. We have no energy to counterattack. Now, with Fletch's group, we have the numbers and the time."

Starlingthorn swallowed. "I see," was all she managed. _You brought them here to overpower LionClan,_ she thought. _I suppose that's fine, but… what will you do with them when you've won?_

"It was not a plan I approved of initially," Hawkstar admitted. "But when Tigerstar insisted, there wasn't much I could do but obey. Thinking about it some more… what right do I have to deny them a safe place, simply because they are not Clanborn? _I_ was not Clanborn... and RiverClan offered me a home. Besides," his licks were hasty, "if I can get some use out of them, why not?"

Starlingthorn tensed. Hawkstar stopped licking, but said nothing. _How can you think of them – my family! – as something to_ use? She thought, frustration boiling in her. She could not bring herself to snap, though. _They live just as we do!_

"There… is one more thing," Hawkstar meowed, slowly. He pushed himself onto his haunches. "Tigerstar wishes to see you."

Starlingthorn looked up at Hawkstar, her eyes wide with shock. _Tigerstar?_ She thought. Her mind whirled again. "W-Why?"

Hawkstar shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. He didn't seem happy about not knowing. "He only told me that, once you returned, that you were to see him. Tonight."

Starlingthorn trembled. "Tonight…" she repeated.

Hawkstar flicked his tail. "I doubt there's anything to worry for," he assured her. His eyes shone. "Tigerstar is a great cat – the best! He is my father, and he knows how I feel for you. You won't be harmed."

Despite his assurance, Starlingthorn could not help but keep trembling. Tigerstar, the greatest evil the Clans had ever known… the ruler of the Dark Forest, a legion of the evil dead. Starlingthorn swallowed. Tigerstar. His name scared kits, made apprentices work harder, and got warriors to straighten out.

Tigerstar wanted to see her.

* * *

Starlingthorn had a hard time falling asleep – and no wonder, knowing that Tigerstar would be waiting for her when she woke into the Dark Forest. Yet sleep came, thanks to the long journey and the stress of losing Magpie, and when her eyes opened, the gloomy forest was surrounding her.

The Dark Forest seemed more sinister than before, somehow. What she'd seen of the place in her dreams on the journey had been a little more tame – but here the thorn bushes and mushrooms seemed to be growing wild in the dark, fueled by the starless sky.

There was a path open to her already. Starlingthorn opened her jaws and scented someone unfamiliar down that road. She fidgeted. She didn't need to think hard to know that it was Tigerstar's scent, and that Tigerstar had made the path for her.

 _I can't put this off,_ she told herself, staring down the dark trail. _He will find me, if I don't find him first. And who knows what he'll do if he thinks I was trying to avoid him?_

Each paw step down the rugged path seemed to take ten times longer than any normal step in the waking world, as if Starlingthorn were trying to walk through stone. There was no sound but the pad of her paws, and no scents but Tigerstar's. Wherever Tigerstar was taking her, it was most likely far away from normal Dark Forest training grounds. _For privacy,_ Starlingthorn guessed.

 _Hawkstar didn't seem worried,_ Starlingthorn reminded herself as she walked. The path was mostly straight, with a slight curve coming up that she could see. _Perhaps there is nothing to worry about with this meeting?_

As she rounded the curve, she cursed herself. _Of course I should be worried! Ashfur knows too much – what has he told Tigerstar?_ If Tigerstar knew, was there a chance he would have told Hawkstar that he intended to kill her tonight? Would Hawkstar have been all right with that knowledge? _No,_ she told herself. She knew Hawkstar well enough to know that, if he'd known the truth, he would have made an example of her himself.

She tried to quiet her thoughts, but it was impossible. She was a whirlwind of worry, not even noticing until it happened that the path had opened up into a spacious clearing. Starlingthorn blinked in surprise – when had that happened? She looked back where she had come, but the path was closed off with tightly-interlocking thorns. She was trapped.

The clearing was large enough to almost be a camp in itself – as big as the Gathering island in the waking world, if not a little smaller. A stream of the Dark Forest's sickly brown, thick, water bubbled at the far end, and glowing mushrooms lined the trunks of the leafless trees, casting a green-blue light. The ground was choked with dead, rotted leaves. The clearing might have been pretty, even, if Starlingthorn hadn't known where she was.

In the middle, rising to all fours, was Tigerstar.

He was an impressive cat – massive, bigger than Hawkstar and Bramblestar. His mid-length pelt was lighter than Hawkstar's, with more jagged stripes than either of his sons and a paler underbelly. His eyes were narrow and amber, glowing like suns in the dark. His paws were massive, and Starlingthorn could imagine that Squirrelflight's tales of Tigerstar's claws were the truth. His tail was long and winding and surprisingly plumy, with dark stripes and a black tip. Scars laced his pelt, but none was so prominent than the massive tear he bore from throat to belly.

They stood, staring at one another. Starlingthorn's heart beat in her ears, pounding, pounding, pounding – until she thought she'd never hear anything else. Tigerstar seemed to be observing her, too; but with much less apprehension.

He seemed to wait until Starlingthorn had measured him well, for it was a long moment before he spoke – his voice was deep, yet soft, and it sounded like paws moving softly over small stones:

"Starlingthorn," he meowed. "We meet at last."

Starlingthorn swallowed the lump in her throat. She took a deep breath. _Panicking will do me no good here,_ she told herself. _Stand tall and look confident._ She bowed her head to Tigerstar. "It is good to meet you," she meowed. To her shock, her voice was even.

Tigerstar flicked his tail, beckoning her to come closer. Starlingthorn pulled herself up and obeyed, padding forward until she was face-to-face with Tigerstar. He was much taller than her, bigger than the average cat – but then again, most of the Dark Forest's inhabitants were larger than normal. Starlingthorn felt too lean next to him, as if a single breath might blow her away.

She was stunned by the aura he radiated – she had never felt anything like his presence before. Power flowed off of him in waves, sending chills down Starlingthorn's spine. This cat was powerful and strong, and he made no efforts to hide that from anyone.

"Hawkstar has told me much of you," Tigerstar meowed. "I must admit, I am impressed. I had my doubts about you – a loner from out of nowhere. You are everything he said and more."

Starlingthorn swallowed again. "Thank you," she managed. It was hard to speak, hard to think of words to say, being so close to Tigerstar and feeling his great power, something no other Dark Forest cat aside from Mapleshade or Brokenstar seemed to radiate.

Tigerstar's eyes gleamed with approval. So far, Starlingthorn guessed she was saying the right things, even if there wasn't much to say at all.

"I have always meant to meet with you," Tigerstar went on. "I am a busy cat, however – it is hard to make the time." His tail flicked against the leaf-strewn ground. "Hawkstar's interest in you, however, has pushed you higher on my priority list. Any cat that seems to have caught my son's eye must be something… _special."_

The way he said it made Starlingthorn's spine tingle. Tigerstar meowed, "And special you certainly are, Starlingthorn. You have not only captured my son's heart, but my own attentions as well." He paused to look her over again. "Your fighting style is certainly unique; something I've never seen before. Tell me about it."

Suddenly she was on the spot. Starlingthorn's mouth was dry. She took a deep breath and meowed: "It's a style that revolves around a fluid defense rather than an aggressive offense. It's difficult to explain, but the gist is that one uses their opponents force against them to create an opening."

Tigerstar was nodding. "In action," he meowed, "it is very effective. Your opponents don't seem to expect it – it goes against instinct, it seems."

"Y-Yes," Starlingthorn agreed. "That's the point."

"You will teach this to the others," Tigerstar stated.

Starlingthorn's ears pricked in surprise. It wasn't an order, but a statement – but it felt like an order nonetheless. She flicked her own tail. "It… It's not something every cat can learn," she stammered. "Some cats are just too… Well, sometimes they don't… have the right mindset."

Tigerstar flicked his tail dismissively. "Then they will suffer," he decided. He looked at Starlingthorn, his eyes hard. "We have the advantage of numbers – now we need something that will drive home the point that TigerClan is supreme. Your fighting style will stun LionClan, allowing us to finally destroy them."

Starlingthorn swallowed.

"I want this war ended as soon as possible," Tigerstar went on. "It has gone on long enough. LionClan is too stubborn for its own good, but now they will not seem indomitable. You will teach your fighting style to the cats here and in the waking world."

Staringthorn had no choice. "O-Of course," she meowed.

"Good," Tigerstar meowed. His eyes glowed. "I look forward to watching."

The massive cat turned away. A path opened before him, the woods scrambling to get out of his way, it seemed. When he and his aura were gone, Starlingthorn was left shaking in the clearing, desperate to catch her breath.

When she had recovered, she was utterly alone in the clearing. All paths were gone, hidden to her eyes. She swallowed as darkness seemed to close in on her. The waking world was coming, rushing to pick her up off her paws and guide her away.

 _Oh Magpie,_ she thought despairingly. _This is not what you wanted at all!_


	23. Chapter 21

**So! I owe you guys an explanation... Something happened to the original file for this story, and I lost everything - all my notes, _and_ this chapter. So it all had to be rewritten. Thankfully, I remembered what I'd lost and only this chapter needed rewriting. I have all my notes ready until the end of this story. I don't know how it happened or why, but that was the reason for this story's absence. I'm really sorry - I'll make sure it doesn't happen again.**

 **Anyway, on with the show!**

* * *

 **Chapter 21**

" _So what was it like?_ Being outside of Clan territory?"

Starlingthorn lowered her head. Dappleheart was only being curious, but this was the third time she'd asked. Beside Starlingthorn, Applenose sighed, rolling her eyes. Owltail was unresponsive, much to everyone else's frustration – all her questions had been for him, and Owltail was simply refusing to answer.

He was glowering now – thankfully he had the tact to be glowering at what lay ahead, not at Dappleheart, who bounded around him, unconcerned by his attempts to ignore her. Hawkstar had advised the journeyers to not speak too much of their trip – Starlingthorn was thankful now more than ever that most of the Clan seemed to ignore her. Owltail, on the other paw, was constantly pestered by Dappleheart and other curious cats who wanted to know more about where these strangers had come from. It had been days, the moon shifting from not-so-full to almost half of itself.

"Come _on,_ Owltail!" Dappleheart pleaded. "Please?"

"Dappleheart," Applenose meowed before Owltail could snap at the tortoiseshell. Dappleheart ripped her eyes away from Owltail. Applenose reminded her, "We're supposed to be hunting, remember? If you must pester Owltail, could you do it later? When you won't scare off our prey?"

Dappleheart looked vexed. But she sighed, nodded, and assented. She looked to Owltail and chirped, "You can tell me later then, over mealtime!"

Owltail narrowed his eyes. "I'm tired," he meowed tersely. "Leave me alone."

Dappleheart's ears pinned, and she said nothing in reply. In fact, she said nothing for the rest of the hunting patrol – which was both a blessing and a curse. Whatever was wrong between Dappleheart and Owltail needed to be sorted out soon, before they pushed each other apart.

Other than that, the hunt went well – for the others. Fishing was out, since the water levels were too low and the mud was dangerous, and Starlingthorn didn't want to deal with Fletch's group; so they took their patrol over towards the moorland, just past the island that had been used to hold Gatherings.

"You could almost cross without using the log now," Applenose had commented. She was right – the log still held true and strong, but the small water channel between the island and the mainland was nothing more than a nasty, muddy trickle. "If you wanted to come home reeking, that is."

Unfortunately, the most plentiful source of prey were the crows – the black birds dotted where water had been, hopping about the mud to pull at dried-out fish corpses. No cat was keen to eat a crow with its belly full of crow-food, however, so the patrol steered clear of them and the lake itself.

Starlingthorn was simply too distracted to hunt properly. Here, she missed a blackbird because it reminded her vaguely of the color of Magpie's pelt. There, she missed a vole because she thought she heard Magpie's voice – _save my cats -_ in the whisper of the reeds. By the time sunhigh approached, she'd given up entirely – prey was scarce enough without her blundering and scaring it all away.

They met near a bed of reeds to bring together what they'd caught. Starlingthorn had brought nothing – but the others had been a little luckier. Between them, Applenose and Owltail had found two mice and a lost squirrel. Dappleheart had managed to take down a rabbit that had long since crossed the LionClan border; the smell of LionClan was very faint on its fur, and would fade before some cat ate it.

No cat commented on Starlingthorn's lack of prey, but Dappleheart flicked her ear quizzically. Owltail took the lead back to camp, his jaws stuffed with the tails of the mice and squirrel. Applenose hung back, while Dappleheart hung back further still, staying as far away from Owltail as she could manage while still keeping him in sight.

"It's all right," Applenose offered quietly.

"What is?" Starlingthorn wondered. Her mind was wandering, between cursing herself for being so foolish as to let her feelings get in the way of hunting.

"You're grieving," Applenose told her sympathetically. "Other cats might expect you to get back onto your paws immediately, but that's because they don't care about you. I don't expect you to be all right immediately, and Owltail and Dappleheart don't either. Hawkstar certainly doesn't."

Starlingthorn frowned. She knew her weakness was apparent, and she didn't like it. TigerClan, by and large, abhorred weakness. Hawkstar had been sympathetic, but not publicly. Behind the scenes he was accommodating, but he didn't seem to understand that there was no place in the stars for cats who didn't believe in StarClan or the Dark Forest. Starlingthorn wouldn't see Magpie again, no matter how much Hawkstar tried to tell her so.

"He sent me out today to get fresh air," Starlingthorn rasped. "He didn't expect me to come back with anything."

Applenose blinked, "As hard as he can be, he really cares about you." She touched her nose to Starlingthorn's ear. "At the end of the day, that's a nice thought, isn't it?"

Starlingthorn nodded. "I just need time," she insisted. "Losing Magpie was like losing my father… I'll look ahead soon enough, but for now I can't help but to only see the past, and wish I could change it."

"I think that's something everyone does, when someone they care about dies," Applenose assured her.

They padded back to camp in silence, but Starlingthorn felt a little bit better.

* * *

That feeling died almost instantly. As soon as the patrol ducked back into camp, they were greeted by the hustle-and-bustle of a crowded clearing. Quickly, those with prey put it on the scant fresh-kill pile and rushed to join the meeting. Starlingthorn, Owltail, and Applenose settled in the very back, while Dappleheart made a point of sulking as far away from Owltail as possible.

It was clear that they'd missed some bits. Hawkstar was sitting comfortably on top of his hollow willow-log den, clearly there for a while. Russetfur and Rowanclaw were sitting just below him in their proper deputy spots. Fletch was before them, facing Hawkstar – and the Clan had fanned out around him, giving the stranger a wide berth. Some cats were on edge – but others were excited. Starlingthorn wondered if they missed too much – but Hawkstar began to speak again:

"It is decided," he meowed. His white chest puffed, shining like snow against his dark pelt. "Fletch, you and your cats will meet us near your farther border as the sun sets. From there, we will assault LionClan and take back what they took from us!"

The Clan cheered – even those who looked uneasy about working with Fletch's cats. Starlingthorn flattened her ears. Under her breath, she muttered, "That didn't take long."

"What?" Owltail wondered.

Starlingthorn chided herself inwardly. "Nothing," she offered. "Just… it's a bit quick to ask them to fight with us, isn't it?"

Owltail frowned. "Yeah, probably," he meowed. Starlingthorn couldn't hide her surprise. Owltail didn't seem to see it, and he spoke low enough that only the two of them could hear: "No matter what else he does, Hawkstar still only does things to further his own goals."

Starlingthorn shut her jaws. Owltail flicked his tail, eyes darting away from her. He then muttered, "Sorry. Bad mood."

Owltail said nothing more, but he scooted away from Starlingthorn. Starlingthorn herself shivered. Owltail was right – Hawkstar was only trying to move towards his own goals. He didn't care whether or not Fletch and Lark and the others were caught up in it now. They were just more bodies for him to use to get what he wanted. _He's a terrifying cat,_ she thought. _But I… I do still care for him._

Her mind swirled. She _did_ care about Hawkstar – in her heart, she wondered if she might be able to turn him away from all this madness. In her head, however, she knew it was far too late. Hawkstar was what he was. _Does that make me a bad person for loving him?_ She shivered again. _Do I love him as he is, or do I love what he could be? What I could try and make him see?_ It was hard to tell. Things happened so fast.

Hearing her named broke her out of her thoughts. Starlingthorn looked up from her white paws and locked eyes with Hawkstar. He was announcing who would go to battle LionClan tonight. With no apprentices to speak of, there would only be warriors present, and Starlingthorn was one of the last cats selected.

"… you are all allowed some rest before this evening – but be by the camp entrance before the sun begins to set! You will be left behind otherwise." Hawkstar's glare told the Clan that if those selected were late, being left behind would be the least of their problems. "Dismissed!"

If there were questions, they weren't spoken. The crowd parted to allow Fletch room to pass – and thankfully he passed well clear of Starlingthorn. She didn't want to deal with that encounter. Fletch passed through and out of the camp without a word to anyone, though. Starlingthorn was safe from that, at least.

"Well, looks like we're both going!" Dappleheart mewed. Starlingthorn glanced about for Owltail – but he was gone, shuffling about with Mosspelt. Dappleheart didn't look in his direction _directly,_ but Starlingthorn saw her eyes flicker. Other than that, she looked excited. "I can't wait!"

Applenose stretched. "Enjoy it, I guess," she muttered. "I'll be glad to _not_ get into a spat for once." One of her ears was nicked now, thanks to skirmishes for the water fountain.

"I expect the best from my warriors," Hawkstar rumbled.

Dappleheart stood up straight, and Applenose was immediately on her toes. Starlingthorn blinked, not entirely surprised by Hawkstar's arrival. Of course he would want to see her. Glancing at the others and their straight-as-trees positions, Starlingthorn could feel just how relaxed she was in comparison. _His mate doesn't need to be on edge,_ she thought, _or, at least, she shouldn't be._

"Applenose, I'd like you to lead another hunting patrol," Hawkstar decided. Applenose nodded, and was in a rabbit hop. She picked up Owltail and Mosspelt, and the three left the camp. Hawkstar watched them with no real interest in his eyes, then he turned to Dappleheart. "Get some fresh-kill and some rest. I expect to see you tonight."

"You will," Dappleheart agreed. She dipped her head to Hawkstar, then padded towards the fresh-kill pile. With the Clan milling about in their preparations, Starlingthorn and Hawkstar were relatively alone. Starlingthorn was aware of Ashfur, _somewhere_ , staring at her.

"Come," Hawkstar told her, draping his tail over her shoulders. "We shall rest, too. I'll have Russetfur bring us some fresh-kill, and you can tell me of your hunting."

Starlingthorn frowned. "There's not much to tell," she admitted.

"I want to hear it anyway," Hawkstar insisted. His eyes, ice-blue, turned warmly onto her. Starlingthorn felt that warmth blooming in her pelt. Together they crossed the camp and slipped into Hawkstar's den. Starlingthorn's mind was in such a whirl that she didn't care much for the hissing comments whispered behind her back.

* * *

" _TigerClan! TigerClan is attacking!"_

Evening was orange and red in the sky when Spiderleg burst through the gorse tunnel and into camp, his usually-sleek black fur fluffed and fear-scent flowing in behind him. Bramblestar and Onestar looked up from their meals while the rest of the Clan murmured in shock.

Bramblestar got to his paws as Spiderleg stumbled forward. Immediately Leafpool met the staggering warrior, supporting him on one shoulder. Kestrelpaw and Robinpaw surrounded him as well, sniffing his ragged pelt. Even from here below the Highledge Bramblestar could see that Spiderleg was bleeding.

"What is the meaning of this?" Bramblestar wondered. His voice silenced most of the Clan who were now clustering around Spiderleg despite Leafpool's protests. All eyes turned to Bramblestar and Onestar, who strode forward without hesitation into the crowd.

Spiderleg was panting, wheezing. The Twoleg path was a trek, but an especially arduous one for someone who was wounded, or outpacing a pursuer. The black warrior looked up at his leaders and managed again, "TigerClan is… attacking us!"

More yowls of concern flooded the crowd. Onestar silenced them with a lash of his tail. "What happened, Spiderleg?" he demanded. "Tell us!"

Spiderleg swallowed, nodding. "We… we were patrolling, like usual," he gasped. "But… but they came out of nowhere. There were…" He wobbled. "So _many…"_

"Enough," Leafpool decided. She sniffed Spiderleg and reported, "He has lost a lot of blood – what he's told you will have to be enough. If we don't get him into my den now he will pass out."

The young tabby did not wait for permissions – she and her apprentices led Spiderleg back to the cleft in the rock where the medicine cats made their den. Worried murmurs rippled through the crowd as they left it, and Bramblestar's ear twitched.

 _Spiderleg's patrol… that was Sandstorm, Stormfur, Nightcloud, and Honeypaw,_ he reflected. A typical evening patrol. TigerClan had never been able to match their numbers when it came to patrols – but now, it seems as if something had changed. Bramblestar did not like it.

"What will we do?" wondered Crowfeather. "Let them take the water from us?"

"Of course not!" Onestar admonished.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Crowfeather demanded. His neck fur was bristling. "Let's go and fight!"

"Fight!" echoed a few other warriors. "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Onestar nodded, and glanced at Bramblestar. Bramblestar nodded back – there was no choice, not if Hawkstar sought to use his entire Clan in an ambush like this.

"I'll lead," Bramblestar decided. Onestar grimaced, but had no outward objections. Bramblestar scanned the crowd. Every face looked eager and ready to fight for their land, their water. Out of them all he selected a formidable fighting force – if all of TigerClan was there, they would need all the help they could get. Yet he was sure to leave some select warriors in camp, to see to its defense in case it was all a ruse.

Bramblestar gathered his warriors behind him with a flick of his tail. "Come!" he called, before surging through the gorse tunnel. His warriors followed after him wordlessly, flowing into the night behind him.

* * *

The sounds of battle could be heard from just beyond the Twoleg path, and as Bramblestar surged his warriors forward into the open he could see just how Spiderleg's patrol had been overwhelmed. The entire area was filled with cats snarling and fighting in fits and starts, two or three TigerClan cats to one LionClan. Each LionClan cat was trapped on the wrong side of the border, penned in by their enemies. Bramblestar raised his tail, and his patrol stopped behind him.

"Get our Clanmates out of here!" he yowled. "Then focus on TigerClan! Go!"

Roars and battle cries – _LionClan! LionClan!_ – rose from his cats as they surged past him and into the fray. Chips of wood that lined the Twoleg path scattered into the air as fresh LionClan warriors flung themselves at the throngs of TigerClan cats to save their Clanmates. Bramblestar surged forward himself, pushing through the battlefield and towards Honeypaw, who was dealing bravely with two enemy warriors.

Bramblestar slammed into the first – a big tom – and pushed him to the ground. His long, hooked claws found his foe's pelt and tore into it until the tom screeched and wiggled for freedom. Bramblestar pushed off of him, but not before the tom aimed a strike at Bramblestar's shoulders that passed harmlessly through thick tabby fur.

Whirling, Bramblestar saw that Honeypaw was being circled by her other foe – a skinny black she-cat with an oddly-dappled pelt. Bramblestar paused briefly, his mind whirling. The tom he had fought, he didn't recognize – and this cat… well, he didn't recognize her, either.

Come to think of it… Bramblestar looked around the battlefield. To his shock, only a few warriors from TigerClan were ones he recognized by name – the rest were different cats altogether. _What is this?_ Bramblestar wondered.

Honeypaw's screech made Bramblestar snap out of it. The dappled black she-cat had landed a blow to Honeypaw's side – nothing major, but enough to make Honeypaw squeal. Bramblestar surged forward and pushed himself between Honeypaw and the strange she-cat.

The dappled black she-cat's yellow eyes widened, but she was quick to put a decent amount of space between herself and Bramblestar. Behind him, Honeypaw breathed a word of thanks before pelting away further into the fray to help her Clanmates. The dappled she-cat did not seem to care that her prey had escaped – she was focused entirely on Bramblestar now.

Bramblestar stood stock-still – there was a strangeness to the way that the she-cat moved as she circled him. Bramblestar kept her in his sight the entire time, but she seemed content to simply circle him endlessly. It reminded him of tales of the ancient cats, and how they would hunt with infinite patience.

Yet the battle was roaring around him, and Bramblestar did not have an ancient cat's patience. Bramblestar lunged at the dappled she-cat, claws out – but she dodged neatly away and resumed her circling.

"What is this?" Bramblestar growled. "I've never heard of a TigerClan cat who didn't want to get their claws bloody!" He lunged again – but she dodged again, slipping smoothly to the side like a shadow. "Are you a coward?" he demanded.

Another lunge. This time, instead of dodging him completely, the she-cat stepped smoothly to the side and landed a blow Bramblestar could not have avoided. Her claws stung his flank – but when he whirled to face her, she was gone. Just like that.

Bramblestar panted, stunned. _I have never heard of a cat fighting like that!_ He thought. _I didn't even land a blow!_ She really must have been a coward, if she were going to simply run when she had an advantage.

He turned – there was no time to be thinking of this – but found himself faced with Hawkstar.

"Well, well," Hawkstar sneered, grinning. His ice-blue eyes and haughty stance were the picture of arrogance. "I didn't expect _you_ to be leading the rescue." Beside him stood a small tabby tom, much smaller than the average cat – yet the hostility in his eyes was just as cold, if not colder, than Hawkstar's.

Bramblestar squared his shoulders. "LionClan leaders join the fight with their Clanmates," he sneered back. "I'm just as surprised that you're not sitting back in your camp, waiting for news of the cats you sent to battle!"

If Hawkstar were offended by that, he didn't show it but for a flick of his ear. He nodded to the cat beside him. "Fletch," he said casually, "this is Bramblestar."

 _Fletch?_ Bramblestar thought. Fletch said nothing, standing in silence beside Hawkstar. _Who is that?_

Hawkstar's grin grew wicked. "Have fun," he chuckled.

The next thing Bramblestar knew Hawkstar was gone, and Fletch was lunging towards him. Bramblestar planted himself – it was all he could do against the surprise attack. Fletch glanced against his greater weight, but Bramblestar felt sharp claws slicing down his pelt.

"So _you're_ the great Bramblestar I've heard so much about?" Fletch sneered. Bramblestar faced him, and found that the small tabby was just a few paces away, his body hunkered down in the same strange stance that the dappled black she-cat had used. Fletch's eyes flicked over Bramblestar's body. "I must say, I'm not that impressed."

Bramblestar kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to be goaded into a fight with a cat he didn't know, with a fighting style that he'd never seen before. Fletch circled him, his posture a lot more aggressive than the black she-cat's, holding a bit of swagger. Bramblestar kept on his toes, his muscles tensed to move.

Whatever Bramblestar had been prepared for, Fletch destroyed. His movements were smooth yet jerky, with fluid motion and blows like solid rocks. In one swift motion Fletch had struck – and when Bramblestar raised his paw to strike back, Fletch somehow twisted himself around to pull Bramblestar's other leg out from underneath him.

Bramblestar hit the ground hard, his head spinning. He pushed himself back up, only to find that Fletch was swaggering again.

Lashing out with his claws, Bramblestar hit empty air as Fletch wiggled away – growling as Fletch drove his claws down Bramblestar's flank. Bramblestar turned, but Fletch was suddenly on his other side again, scoring his claws down. Bramblestar felt frustration bubbling inside – fighting this cat was like fighting a fish in the water!

"You cats are so unbearably _slow,"_ Fletch complained, as if he were talking about the weather. Bramblestar felt sharp jabs at his hips, and suddenly he was buckling onto his haunches, his limbs trembling. "And _heavy,_ too," Fletch sighed.

Bramblestar jerked, trying to move – but his legs would not respond. Bramblestar could feel them trying, but it was as if some cat had pinned him down. A prickly, numb-like feeling flowed up his spine each time he tried to move.

Fletch stood before him, his face a mask of cool disdain. "You're going to have to do a lot better to deal with us," he hissed. "Too bad you won't be seeing much more of what we have to offer. You tried, though."

In a flash, Bramblestar felt Fletch's claws digging into his throat. Pain washed over him, incomprehensible pain as Fletch's claws bit deep into his flesh. Black spots clouded Bramblestar's vision – and the last thing he saw was Fletch drawing his paw up to clean away the blood.

* * *

" _Retreat!"_

Staringthorn's ear flicked at the sound. Ashfoot, one of LionClan's deputies, was sounding the retreat at the top of her lungs. She stood before the limp body of their leader, Bramblestar, as he was being dragged away by two other warriors. Starlingthorn shivered. All the LionClan cats bore a mark of some kind, but she had not expected something as severe as one of their leaders losing a life.

 _One life gone,_ she thought. _How many more to go?_ She realized she had no idea how many lives any of the Clan leaders had left. Not even Hawkstar had told her how many lives he had. But she hoped that the LionClan leaders wouldn't lose many more.

Hawkstar stood beside her, his chin held up with pride. Fletch stood on his other side, cleaning his paws casually. Starlingthorn didn't want to be this close to Fletch – and she knew the feeling was mutual – but with Hawkstar between them, there was at least some buffer.

"Yes," Hawkstar called, "retreat, LionClan!"

Ashfoot stared at him, her blue eyes chips of ice. Her warriors had all but left the clearing around the Twoleg fountain, and only she remained, stiff and wiry as a rabbit poised to strike.

"This is TigerClan territory," Hawkstar went on, ignoring her. His voice was loud enough to be heard halfway to LionClan's camp. "It was from the first, and it shall always be."

Ashfoot spat, but said nothing more. She leaped into the undergrowth.

Hawkstar chuckled. He glanced behind him and ordered curtly, "Dappleheart, take two warriors and re-mark the boundary. Thoroughly." Starlingthorn heard Dappleheart's mew of assent behind her. Hawkstar went on, "Rowanclaw, take another group and make sure LionClan is not lurking about. Keep low and out of sight."

Both patrols padded past them. Starlingthorn's tail flicked as she spotted some of Fletch's group in each patrol, padding alongside TigerClan cats as if they had been born together. _Battle will do that,_ she thought grimly. Still, she wished there was some hesitation.

Smoothly, Hawkstar turned to Fletch. "You and your cats did a wonderful job," he meowed. "Your extra numbers gave us the advantage we needed."

Fletch nodded. "I'm glad," he meowed. He flicked his stained paw. "But I don't see how these cats caused you so much trouble. Their leader fell to me so easily I thought I was killing a mouse." Starlingthorn's eyes widened. Fletch went on, "At least without him they won't fight so hard."

"You _killed_ Bramblestar?" Starlingthorn hissed.

" _Someone_ had to," Fletch snapped back.

Starilngthorn couldn't keep her neck fur from bristling. "What would Magpie think?! Those skills he taught us were _not_ to be used to kill other cats – only to defend ourselves!" she retorted. Magpie would roil in his grave to know what Fletch had done, even if it were only temporary.

Fletch narrowed his eyes, glaring at her past Hawkstar's snow-white chest. "They're _my_ skills. I'll use them however I please." He snarled. "I won't have some coward telling me what I ought to be doing with my claws!"

Starlingthorn's shoulders sat rigid. "You think you know everything, do you?" she hissed back. "I would think you had more respect for your father than this!"

Fletch's claws unsheathed, but before he could make a move Hawkstar physically put himself between them. Fletch let out a noise of frustration, but Starlingthorn merely stood her ground. Hawkstar was staring at Fletch, she knew, with those piercing ice-blue eyes.

Coldly, quietly, Hawkstar meowed, "If I were you, Fletch, I would not speak to her that way." Fletch made no sound, but Starlingthorn could tell from looking between Hawkstar's legs that Fletch's claws had sheathed.

"She is correct," Hawkstar went on, his voice returning to its usual smoothness. "There is much you don't know, Fletch. Bramblestar's death will make LionClan falter, but only for a moment. When he recovers, their efforts to resist us will redouble, and LionClan will come at us with an even stronger resolve."

Starlingthorn didn't need to see Fletch's face to know that it was agape with shock. "Recovers…?" he repeated, his voice cracking and quiet.

Hawkstar glanced at Starlingthorn, his eyes colored in amusement. Starlingthorn found she didn't have to work hard to manage a smirk at Fletch's ignorance. Hawkstar looked back to Fletch and chuckled, "Come… we have much to talk about."


	24. Chapter 22

**I'm sorry for the delay in updating. Stuff happened, and I've moved downstate!**

* * *

 **Chapter 22**

 _Moonlight poured into the hollow,_ highlighting the bodies of pacing, fussing, fretting cats. Leafpool looked up from her patient to scan them all – most of them wounded bodies licking their wounds, while their fitter Clanmates paced about spreading the reports of the battle. Weaving between them were Kestrelpaw and Robinpaw, their mouths stuffed with herbs as they traveled back and forth from the medicine den to heal their Clanmates. They were doing well.

According to Ashfoot, the battle was a disaster – they lost the water source, but they managed to get the trapped patrol out safely. It troubled Leafpool that the Clan now had to resort to drinking the muddied water of the lake if they were to stay hydrated in this drought – but everyone was safe for the most part. Leafpool tried to focus herself on those who needed healing most.

Bramblestar lay beneath her gentle paws. He was breathing again, but Leafpool's pads tingled with the life he had lost. He had only lost one so far – but losing one could begin a harsh climb down a slippery slope to having none at all.

"When will he wake?" Onestar demanded.

Leafpool did not look at the lean tom. She didn't think her eyes could keep up if she did – he was pacing so fervently, tail lashing to and fro. Any cat caught in the line of fire might lose a whisker.

"When StarClan is done with him," Leafpool replied solemnly. Somehow, it seemed harder watching Bramblestar or Onestar lose lives than it had been watching her own father die – perhaps because the hope of the lake Clans was nestled on these cats' shoulders?

Onestar continued pacing. "There were strangers in that battle," he growled. "Strangers!"

Leafpool flicked an ear. Yes, she had heard reports of non-TigerClan cats fighting in the battle with TigerClan. The way the Clan described them now, they sounded like invincible warriors who could kill you with the blink of an eye. Leafpool knew better. Soon enough the Clan would be brought back down to earth.

"Where did TigerClan go to get allies?" Onestar growled on. He did not wait for any answer. "They are fools!"

"It doesn't matter… where they got their allies," rasped Bramblestar. Leafpool looked down, and Onestar stopped his pacing. Bramblestar's eyes were open, and his breathing had intensified as he went on, "They are only cats, and we can stop them."

"What were they like?" Onestar demanded instantly. "The Clan speaks of them as if they were straight out of a legend!"

Bramblestar wheezed. Leafpool threw Onestar a stern look. "He needs rest," she insisted.

"There's no time for rest!" Onestar snapped. "TigerClan and these cats could be banging down our camp wall any moment!"

Leafpool narrowed her eyes. "If you will not let Bramblestar recover, TigerClan and their allies will be the least of your worries," she said strongly.

Onestar opened his jaws, but he saw sense and shut them. Instead of remaining, however, he whipped away, tail lashing, and stalking across the clearing, muttering to himself the whole way. Leafpool sighed. This unbearable heat was fraying everyone's nerves, but Onestar's seemed to be the most fragile cat in the Clan.

"Thanks," Bramblestar rasped.

Leafpool placed a steadying paw on the huge tabby tom's side. He was trying to move, but it took only the weight of one paw to stop him. "Stay still," she meowed. "Your wounds are healed, but you mustn't push it."

Bramblestar was reluctant, but he sank back down. Leafpool removed her paw.

"What did StarClan say to you?" she asked. The murmuring of the camp was burning into her mind – the worries of her Clanmates clouding the air like a storm that would never break. She did not need to be able to clearly feel those emotions to know they were there.

Bramblestar flashed her a look, then stared ahead. He sighed heavily. "They told me to hold on and persevere."

Leapfool couldn't help but flick her tail irritably. _The same message Onestar got when he lost three of his lives to TigerClan,_ she thought. She glanced up at the moon, all but a scratch away from being carved in half now. It hung ominously in the cloudless, star-lit sky.

"StarClan is not often clear," she meowed. "If they keep telling us the same thing, perhaps there is something we are not seeing."

"Perhaps," Bramblestar grunted. He added quietly, "Or perhaps they don't know what to do any more than we do."

Leafpool wanted to box his ears. If there was one thing LionClan could _not_ risk hearing, it was that StarClan had abandoned them in any way. Leafpool refused to believe that their warrior ancestors could tell them nothing useful.

"The half-moon is tomorrow," she told Bramblestar. "Perhaps they will be more forthcoming at the Moonpool." StarClan was usually more willing to share with medicine cats than with leaders, or even warriors.

Bramblestar nodded. "Yes… but you cannot go," he rasped. Leafpool frowned, but Bramblestar went on: "Don't give me that look, Leafpool – Barkface might be dead but the pact still stands. Send Robinpaw and Kestrelpaw. They can make it on their own."

 _Can they?_ Leafpool wondered, worried. It had been so long since she had seen the Moonpool's sparkling waters in person – the deal couldn't stop her from dreaming of it. It was hard to be denied access to something StarClan had led you to discover themselves, and it was even harder to be denied the privilege of talking with her warrior ancestors. Bramblestar would not let her go, and who knew what would happen if they caught her sneaking? Robinpaw and Kestrelpaw would have to do. _They'll have to._

Besides, she might not be able to go, but she could do everything in her power to help make sense of what the apprentices saw. She only hoped that they saw something useful.

"Very well," she meowed. "I shall tell them."

* * *

"They were just… so _weird,"_ Lionpaw meowed.

Robinpaw's ears flicked at his brother's genuinely puzzled tone. He had only half-listened to the reports of the battle – he could tell by the smell of blood and the slowness of everyone's pawsteps that it hadn't gone well – but the mention of the strange cats piqued his interest. It seemed to be piquing everyone's interest. Robinpaw kept his ears sharp, but his paws were busy shifting through Lionpaw's thick fur in search of scratches.

"I keep hearing that they fought strangely," Spottedpaw meowed. She had not been chosen to go to the battle, but she didn't seem offended.

Robinpaw felt Lionpaw nod beneath his paws. "They weren't aggressive at all!" he meowed, shock in his tone. "They actually _waited_ for you to make your move, and when you did…" Robinpaw was dislodged as Lionpaw's paw whooshed through the air. "They struck!"

"Keep still," Robinpaw hissed.

"Sorry," Lionpaw offered. He hunkered down, and Robinpaw set back to work again. Lionpaw went on, "It was the weirdest thing – they were surprising warriors left and right!"

Robinpaw frowned. _Surprising warriors, yes… but apparently not you,_ he thought. He pulled away from his brother. "You're clear," he reported.

"Of course I am!" Lionpaw meowed. Robinpaw could hear that puffing of his chest in his brother's voice. "They might have surprised us with their skills, but they barely even touched me with their claws!"

Spottedpaw huffed, "You were _lucky."_

"Not lucky," Lionpaw countered smugly.

"Alright then," Spottedpaw grumbled. "Your head was so clouded by your own pride, I doubt you'd feel it if one of them _did_ hit you!"

"Hey!" Lionpaw snapped. "At least I _am_ proud!"

Robinpaw placed himself firmly between his siblings as they rose to their paws. He could almost feel their fur bristling. "Enough!" he meowed. "Shut up, the both of you!"

Spottedpaw sat back down, but not without a grunt of insult towards Lionpaw. Lionpaw, however, remained standing. Robinpaw could hear his brother's quickened breathing, and could almost imagine his face contorted in frustration.

"Lionpaw, you _know_ you shouldn't be so loud about that," Robinpaw hissed. "What if someone heard us and wondered what we were talking about?"

"They'll find out eventually," Lionpaw reasoned. "Hopefully before we're useless to the Clan!"

Robinpaw curled his lip. This wasn't the first time Lionpaw's confrontational nature had gotten him into a spat with his siblings, and it wouldn't be the last – but these outbursts were getting harder and harder to quash down. Yes, the whole Clan would know of their powers - but Robinpaw didn't want to risk them knowing at the wrong time.

He was about to say as much, but approaching pawsteps stopped his voice. It was Leafpool, who greeted her kits with a purr.

"How is Lionpaw?" she asked.

"They're fine," Robinpaw reported. "Lionpaw managed to get out of the fight with only a few bruises." Bruises could be easily faked, and it wasn't something Leafpool would question too much. She would wonder about Lionpaw escaping battles unscathed, though – something, even if it was fake, was better than nothing.

"Good," Leafpool sighed with relief. "Too many are badly wounded for my liking. Let me know if your bruises hurt too much for too long, however. I'll check on you tomorrow."

"I can do that," Robinpaw offered.

Leafpool paused, but she answered, "Thank you."

Robinpaw hid a sigh of relief. Bruises were easy to fake on the surface, but testing them might be too hard for Lionpaw to do. Robinpaw was just grateful that Leafpool was too busy to fret over little things like that.

Leafpool went on, "I need to speak with Robinpaw alone. Off to your nests, you two."

Lionpaw grumbled in complaint, but Spottedpaw meowed over him, "Of course, Mother."

Robinpaw felt the two padding away, heading into the apprentice's den. Even if Lionpaw claimed he wasn't tired, he was always exhausted after taking no damage in a battle. Lionpaw, at least, would sleep like a stone. Robinpaw had no worries there – but he could hear his mother's tail frisking across the trodden ground.

"What is it?" he wondered.

Leafpool sighed. "It is the half-moon tomorrow night," she told him. "You and Kestrelpaw will be going to the Moonpool. Alone."

Robinpaw frowned. He knew by her tone that his mother was not comfortable with the thought – but he also knew that there was nothing she could do. Her pact with Barkface sealed her away from StarClan as best as it could, keeping her away from the Moonpool for which she was named.

 _All because she had kits,_ Robinpaw thought. Once he had resented his mother and the second part of her deal – that one of her kits must train to be a medicine cat in her place – but now he only felt sorrow for the pain his mother must have gone through. Being a medicine cat was what she had lived for, and now all she had were her knowledge of herbs and her nest in the medicine cat's den… which might move to the warrior's den once Robinpaw was a full medicine cat.

"I wish you could come," Robinpaw offered.

"So do I," Leafpool admitted. "But you know I cannot."

Robinpaw swallowed. The whole _Clan_ knew she couldn't.

"I can, however, escort you to the moorland path," Leafpool offered. Her tone sounded hopeful. "Though I will go no farther."

Robinpaw couldn't bear to deny her. "Of course," he told her. "We'd like that."

Leafpool licked him between the ears. "Thank you," she purred quietly. Robinpaw rubbed his cheek against her jaw before his mother turned away. "I'll tell Kestrelpaw myself. You both need to get some rest."

Robinpaw nodded. Leafpool padded away, but Robinpaw could not make his paws move towards the medicine cat's den just yet. The Moonpool, and all on his own! Kestrelpaw would be there, yes, but it would be the first time the two of them were on their own.., and probably the first time in Clan history that apprentices made the journey without a mentor.

 _I need to resolve what I'll be asking StarClan,_ he thought. _For one, I need to find out what's happening – what StarClan can do to help LionClan…_ Yet, one thing still bothered him.

 _I need to find Barkface,_ He decided. _The Clan needs to know what happened to him. Someone has to know where he's gone! He can't_ not _be in StarClan!_


	25. Chapter 23

**So, it's been a while! I've been busy, dealing with a lack of wanting to write and a bunch of other things. I'll be working on getting this written and done. I've not lost interest, don't worry!**

* * *

 **Chapter 23**

" _This is strange," Kestrelpaw decided._

Robinpaw nodded in agreement.

Down below their paws the ground sloped into the hollow that held the Moonpool. Robinpaw imagined it glowing in the moonlight, the water ruffled slightly by the slight breeze. The rest of the forest was hot and heavy, but it seemed like here was cooler thanks to the water – or StarClan.

Kestrelpaw led the way down the slope and into the hollow. Robinpaw followed, his whiskers brushing against the hollow's stony walls. His paws slipped comfortably into the marks of cats who had come before, long ago. Soon enough the two apprentices were sitting before the Moonpool as it gently lapped at their toes, fed by a splashing spring from above.

 _It feels as if it's gotten lower,_ Robinpaw thought uncomfortably. All the water in the territories was drying up – if the lake wasn't immune to the effects of the heat, why shouldn't the Moonpool dry up as well? The thought scared him. What would LionClan do without the Moonpool?

"Do you think StarClan will talk to us without one of our mentors here?" Kestrelpaw wondered. He made no comment on the receding water. "They… they were quiet to me after… after Barkface died."

"They must," Robinpaw insisted, sympathy flashing inside for Kestrelpaw. "They can't just ignore us." _I won't let them._

Robinpaw didn't see Kestrelpaw nod, but he did hear the other apprentice sigh. "Let's do this, then," Kestrelpaw decided.

Together they lapped at the cool waters of the Moonpool, like frost and starlight on the tongue. They curled up together on the shore, and Robinpaw heard Kestrelpaw fall to sleep almost immediately. It didn't take long for Robinpaw to dream, either. Almost the moment his head hit his paws, a bright light shone from behind his eyes – and when he opened them, Robinpaw was in StarClan.

It always took Robinpaw a moment to adjust himself to being able to see. The fields of StarClan seemed to stretch into forever, its grasses long and vibrant and beautiful. Edging the field was a great section of forest, trees heavy with leaves. Everything glistened with dew, as if it were just morning. A stark contrast to the woods where Robinpaw trained with Silverhawk.

Before Robinpaw could call for anyone, a lumbering dark shape approached. They were a large she-cat, broad-bodied and flat-faced, with orange eyes that blazed like flames and scars along her matted dark gray pelt. A faint scent of something similar to LionClan drifted to Robinpaw's nose, but there were too many differences.

Robinpaw frowned. "Who are you?" he wondered. "Where is Tallstar?" Tallstar was one of the few StarClan cats he knew. He had expected to see him – and even if he hadn't come, Robinpaw wanted to talk to Tallstar anyway. Who else would know where Barkface was?

"I am Yellowfang." The dark gray she-cat grunted. Her voice was a deep rasp – old-sounding, even for StarClan. "Former medicine cat for ThunderClan and ShadowClan before that – and Tallstar will not be speaking to you tonight."

"Is he talking to Kestrelpaw?" Robinpaw wondered. "That's good if he is – poor Kestrelpaw's been so caught up in -"

Yellowfang cut him off with a growl. "I've never liked too much chatter," she said. "In my opinion, StarClan tends to make one prone to talking in circles. I want to get to the point with you, Robinpaw. No distractions."

Robinpaw shut his jaws. She was quite unlike any StarClan cat he'd met – in fact, her direct demeanor reminded him more of Silverhawk. Yet she couldn't be as mean as he was at times. Robinpaw settled himself in the grass. "Alright," he agreed. "Where do we start?"

"I know you've many questions," Yellowfang rasped. "But I hate secrets, especially when knowing could help more now than later. Ask me what you want, and I'll do my best to answer."

Robinpaw swallowed. Being given the option opened floodgates that Robinpaw wasn't sure how to close. Questions poured through his mind – so many, too many! It took him a moment to sort things out, to find the ones he really wanted answers to. Yellowfang's gradually curling lip did not help.

"I…" Robinpaw breathed. "The prophecy," he decided. "Of the Three. Where did it come from? What does it mean?" That felt like the most important question, the most logical. Yellowfang had to know something.

Yet her orange eyes clouded. "Straight to the point," she grunted, "like your father." The old she-cat took a great breath before going on: "I cannot tell you what it rightly means, Robinpaw. None of us know, either. As for where it came from… This prophecy has always been there."

"What?" Robinpaw's eyes widened in disbelief.

Yellowfang nodded. "It was spoken long ago," she said, "farther back than most cats here can recall. Some say its existed long before StarClan even came to be. Some others think that it means that what's happening now has been preordained – always meant to happen, no matter what."

"You mean, LionClan and TigerClan were always meant to…" Robinpaw trailed off. His paws trembled, and he suddenly felt cold.

Yet Yellowfang shook her head. "Not that bit, I don't think," she admitted. "At least, I don't think so. How the Clans split was not mentioned in the prophecy – I think something went wrong somewhere."

 _Something went wrong?_ Robinpaw frowned. "Like what?"

Yellowfang shrugged. "Don't know," she stated. "Life has many directions it can take, Robinpaw. Too many, in my opinion. Simply putting a paw out of place can change your destiny forever, like ripples in a pond."

Robinpaw frowned, ears pinning. "That sounds confusing," he admitted.

"If you think too hard on it, your head will spin," Yellowfang grunted. "Trust me. But the fact of the matter is that we might not know what the prophecy means, Robinpaw – but we are doing everything we can to find out, and guide you from there."

Robinapw worked his cream-colored paws into the earth. Somehow, he got the impression that Yellowfang meant she was done answering that question. _But I only have more questions than when I asked!_ It made him want to wail. But he shoved those questions aside – better to see if he could answer them himself rather than squander this opportunity.

"TigerClan," Robinpaw decided. "If there's nothing StarClan can do to stop them, what can LionClan do?"

Yellowfang narrowed her eyes. "I know of the battle that took place," she said. "We all do. Very unfortunate, but someone with evil in their heart will always attract more of the same. Nothing to be done about that."

The dark gray she-cat shifted on her paws. Old, cracked claws sheathed and unsheathed in frustration. She meowed, "I'm sorry, Robinpaw; there's not much we can do. If we could fight TigerClan for you, believe me – I'd lead the charge. StarClan can only do so much."

Robinpaw frowned. It was the answer he'd expected, though in not so many words. _Maybe the prophecy has something to do with it,_ he decided. _Tallstar made it seem that way when he told me._ Robinpaw didn't dare ask that question, however – he knew the night was slipping away. How many more questions could he ask before he woke?

He decided on another prominent one. "Where is Barkface?" he asked.

Yellowfang's frown deepened. "I had hoped you'd ask that first," she admitted. "Barkface is dead, Robinpaw – but he never made it to StarClan. Tallstar went down to fetch that old coot himself; but Barkface's spirit was already gone."

Robinpaw's ears pricked in shock. "I-If he was already gone," he breathed, "then where is he now?"

This time Yellowfang's eyes narrowed to such a point that looking her in the face felt like claws searing down his white-dashed muzzle. Her growl was deep: "Oh, I'm sure you know."

Before Robinpaw could ask, Yellowfang disappeared. Confusion gripped Robinpaw, then horror. The world began to break apart around him, as if Yellowfang was forcing it to happen. _What does she mean?_ Robinpaw thought frantically. _What does she –_

His final thoughts cut off as the ground fell out from beneath his paws, sending Robinpaw spinning into darkness.


	26. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

" _Everyone, I'm sure you know_ Starlingthorn."

Starlingthorn forced herself to raise her head high. TigerClan cats stared at her from all angles, eye boring into her pelt in disbelief. Starlingthorn kept her chin up – showing weakness now, especially in front of Brokenstar, would be the end of everything.

Brokenstar ignored the muttering and musing. His bent tail swept around his paws. "She will be teaching you a new method of fighting. It has proven itself against LionClan already – in your paws, it will destroy them." His mouth turned into a crooked sneer.

At a flick of his whiskers, the crowd parted – and closed again as it forced a cat into the open. He was short, with a stump tail and ragged brown fur. His pelt would have shone with stars were he not trapped in the Dark Forest. Barkface trembled on his paws, his spirit flickering and flagging.

Starlingthorn stared at the former LionClan tom, stunned. How had he gotten here? Why was he here?

"You will use him," Brokenstar decided. "Now – begin before I grow bored."

Brokenstar sauntered back into the crowd, taking up a place on an overhanging tree branch to observe. The crowd of TigerClan cats clustered around Starlingthorn and Barkface, watching intently. Starlingthorn, on the other hand, was almost too shocked to move.

Barkface turned his head up and began looking around wildly. His eyes were wide, filled with anger and fear. _He shouldn't be here,_ Starlingthorn thought. _He should be amongst his own kin, among the stars. Not in this dark place._

"Starlingthorn – are you going to move or not?" Brokenstar snarled from above.

Starlingthorn broke out of her thoughts with a start. It would do no good if Brokenstar were to reprimand her. She lunged for Barkface, stopping just short of his muzzle to get his attention. Before Barkface could strike back in shock, Starlingthorn snaked away.

She maintained a two tail-length distance between she and Barkface – far enough that he could not reach her easily, and close enough that she could leap in at any time. Her long legs drove circles around Barkface – and kept her away from him when he tried to strike. The crowd of onlookers moved and flexed around the display, leaving ample room.

Barkface attacked again, and this time Starlingthorn ducked and slapped a paw against his shoulder. Barkface sniffed in pain, but he whirled and tried to hit her – and Starlingthorn was already out of his way and they fell back into the same dance again.

"Good show," Brokenstar yawned, "now actually _strike_ him. You learn nothing from being a coward!"

Starlingthorn swallowed. There was no avoiding hurting Barkface – not with Brokenstar watching up above like a hawk. She unsheathed her claws.

"I was merely getting warmed up," she told the crowd.

 _I am sorry, Barkface._

* * *

It was commotion that woke Starlingthorn. Her muscles strained as she pushed herself up and out of her nest in Hawkstar's den. Daylight filtered in through the cracks in the hollow willow shell, and heat was already hanging in every corner, even this shaded den. Starlingthorn's pelt felt heavy as she pulled herself out into the breezeless day.

By sunhigh heat hanging in the air above, Starlingthorn guessed she had been granted time to sleep in. Last night had been nothing but training – and teaching was almost twice as exhausting as the training itself. Not to mention the guilt of seeing Barkface tossed about from group to group like kits playing with prey.

Starlingthorn half expected someone to ask about last night – all the faces in the clearing had been there, after all – but their eyes were turned up to the willow log itself. Starlingthorn blinked away tiredness. Hawkstar had called a meeting, and Fletch and his cats were here, too. Quickly, before she drew attention, Starlingthorn slipped into the crowd. _What is this meeting for?_ She wondered.

Her answer came quickly: "… Fletch, you and your cats have proven your worth," Hawkstar decided. "You and yours are now members of TigerClan."

Starlingthorn pricked her ears as the whole Clan murmured around her. Fletch, in the middle of the crowd and flanked by Speckle and Lark, looked diffident to the whole thing. Yet even some of his cats shifted on their paws. It seemed they were just as unsure as TigerClan, if not more. Starlingthorn's tail flicked worriedly.

No cat spoke out, though – who would dare? Hawkstar went on: "Those of you who wish to take a Clan name may step forward."

It took a moment, but Speckle stepped forward first. Following her were Falcon, Chirp, and Jet. No other cats dared step forward, and Gull looked miserably at her little brother from her place beside Lark. Starlingthorn's sympathies went out – _I wouldn't want my kin in this Clan either._

Hawkstar appraised them all, his white chest puffed with pride and his ice-blue eyes nothing but indulgent. He stepped off the log and approached Speckle.

"You shall be called Speckleface," he decided. He gave her a nod, and Speckleface nodded back.

Short and simple, for all of them – Jet became Jetstream, and Chirp because Chirpfoot. Falcon became Falconpaw – and Starlingthorn cringed as Hawkstar chose Voletooth from the crowd to be his mentor. Yet TigerClan cheered hardest for Falconpaw – finally, the Clan had an apprentice.

When Hawkstar was done, the Clan broke up into groups to celebrate. Though the fresh-kill pile was dwindling, there was enough to share. Starlingthorn pulled a mouse from the pile and padded over to Hawkstar, who was eating with Fletch, Jingo, and Speckleface.

Hawkstar greeted her with a purr before turning to Fletch and saying: "Should you wish to change your names as well, let me know."

Jingo shook her head. "I like my name the way it is, sorry," she says, flicking her tail.

Fletch looked pointedly at Starlingthorn. "My name is a reminder of my old life," he said with the hint of a growl. "My father gave it to me. And besides – your names just don't sound right to me."

Starlingthorn did her best to ignore Fletch's words. Hawkstar got to his paws, his meal between his paws. He nodded, and then nudged Starlingthorn. Hawkstar picked up his meal and together they headed over to a more private part of the camp to eat.

They settled down near Hawkstar's den, shaded by dying ferns. Hawkstar pressed close, twining his tail with Starlingthorn's. He began eating easily, casually – Starlingthorn, however, stared at her meal with a churning stomach.

"I heard about the training session," Hawkstar meowed, still chewing. "I'm told it went well."

Starlingthorn only nodded, staring at her mouse. It just… didn't look appealing anymore, especially now that they were on the topic of training. Yet she has a question – and Hawkstar might be the safest cat to ask, ironically: "Where… where did Barkface come from?"

Hawkstar chuckled, whiskers twitching. "Barkface was killed not long ago," he answered casually, as if he were talking about the weather. "His spirit was pulled into the Dark Forest for training – and because he knew something StarClan could never know."

Starlingthorn's ears pinned, her stomach churning more violently. She tasted bile. _He was_ forced _into the Dark Forest?_ She thought incredulously. _That's_ possible? _And what does he know that StarClan cannot?_

"Barkface isn't the only one there," Hawkstar went on. He didn't seem to notice Starlingthorn's reaction. "Blackclaw was taken there too – he's suffering for what he did."

Starlingthorn's throat was tight. Blackclaw's presence as a prisoner didn't entirely surprise Starlingthorn – the Dark Forest cats most likely didn't believe his claims that Starlingthorn was a traitor. In reality, he hadn't had any more evidence than Starlingthorn being an outsider. But Barkface… Starlingthorn shivered.

"Starlingthorn," Hawkstar wondered, his tone full of sudden concern, "are you feeling all right? You haven't been eating well recently."

"I'm fine," Starlingthorn answered tightly. Her tone wavered despite herself. "Just… not hungry."

"I can have Mothwing here in an instant to -"

"Magpie's death is just bothering me, that's all," Starlingthorn insisted quickly. It wasn't entirely far from the truth. "It still hurts, you know? And all this…" She gestured to the new cats with her tail. "This is just hard to adjust to."

Hawkstar's eyes bored into her's, ice blue to yellow. "It's going to be difficult for the Clan, yes; but in the end TigerClan will only benefit – you'll see," he assured her.

Starlingthorn forced herself to nod. "Of course," she decided.

Hawkstar licked her between the ears; a warm, affectionate gesture. He purred. "Now try and eat that mouse – for me?"

Starlingthorn stared down at the fresh-kill. She sighed… and took a bite. The food was tasteless on her tongue, and her stomach only churned more.


End file.
